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The Devotional Life of a Christian Apologist/Philosopher

As a Christian Apologist and Philosopher (if I may be so bold as to refer to myself in such a way) it is important to maintain an intimate relationship with my God. Often, it is easy to get lost in all the “If… then…”s the “therefore”s, and the premises of arguments about God and forget that God is the Living God, who wants to interact on a real, personal level with all His people. It is a trap that awaits those who talk about God in such abstract terms: forgetting that that same God is there and should be praised and loved.

Thus, it is important to maintain a devotional life.  I encourage readers to set their own routines for exploration of God’s Word, prayer life, etc. It is important to utilize those periods of downtime–be they periods of an hour, two hours, or even ten or fifteen minutes–in order to expand knowledge of Word and Truth. I’ve outlined my own routine below (though I sometimes stray from it) in order to provide a potential base for study and some recommendations.

Daily (or as often as possible)

1. Read at least 1 chapter from the Bible: This may be done all in order (as I’m doing right now) or by a variety of other methods (such as following a “read the Bible in a year” type of thing).

2. Devotion: I use and very highly recommend the Treasury of Daily Prayer, which has readings from Scripture, church fathers, etc. along with liturgies for personal devotion.

3. Pray: This can be done independently or by using various books of prayer (I utilize the Lutheran Book of Prayer).

4. Hone Greek/Hebrew Skills: This one takes some prior study and knowledge, but I definitely recommend learning Biblical Greek and Hebrew in order to study the Word (a wonderful Hebrew Text is here, while a great introduction to Greek is here). Once one can utilize these languages, they can be used in daily meditation by taking a reader (such as this one) to practice this wonderful gift.

5. Other readings: Normally, I’m working through at least one “hard” book and one “light reading” book at a time. An example of a “hard” book could be God and Necessity while a “light reading” can be C.S. Lewis. Daily, I would say try to read as much as possible in whatever downtime one has. A fifteen minute period can mean 10-20 pages of reading for a “light reading” book, while I usually save “hard” books for times I have an hour or more. Utilize a notebook to take notes on the readings you do. Also, sometimes it’s good to read both a “hard” and “light” book from the same author, as this will reinforce the ideas (for example N.T. Wright–one could read The New Testament and the People of God [hard] and The Challenge of Jesus [light]).

Weekly (at least)

1. Church: Attending worship with fellow believers is extremely important for spiritual nurturing.

2. Extra reading: Take at least one day a week to sit and have some serious reading time from Scripture and books you are reading.

3. Exercise: Don’t forget to utilize the body God gave you. Take a 1-3+ mile run 1-3 times a week. While running, reflect on the gifts God has given. Pray, think about topics you’ve read from Scripture or other readings, recite verses.

4. Memory work: Try to memorize at least one verse a day. You may not retain them all in your memory, but once you start to do this, you will find you’ll be opened to an even more intimate understanding of Scripture.

Hopefully these ideas will serve to encourage others who are looking for devotional life. Do not neglect prayer and reading the Word; these are vitally important to the spiritual life of the Christian.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

The Life Dialogue: The Interaction of Science and Faith

This is part of a series of posts on the “Life Dialogue” within Christianity. Check out other posts in the series here.

While I’ve explored some of the major perspectives of this debate within Christianity, one element I’ve left untouched is the different approaches people take on the interaction between science and faith.

This interaction can be seen in (at least) four ways:

1) Faith and Science are both accurate and support each other in a mutually beneficial relationship–this view, interestingly enough, is advocated by all sides of the dialogue I’ve explored before: intelligent design, old and young earth creationism, and theistic evolution

2) Faith and Science discuss completely different realms, and as such are both accurate, but independent and non-overlapping–this is often referred to as the “Independence” theory or “Non-Overlapping Magisteria” (check out this post for an interesting exploration of this possibility)

3) Faith and Science are at odds, and we should favor Faith–this view is often advocated by those who feel uncomfortable with scientific discoveries they may feel challenge Christianity and Scripture

4) Faith and Science are at odds, and we should favor Science– this view is often favored by those who believe their religion must “keep up” with current science

Now, it seems to me that 1) should be the favored position by those interested in the interaction between science and faith.

First, 4) seems unacceptable because it endorses giving up truths of Scripture or belief as scientific discoveries emerge. This also means that faith must change as science does. This is not an attack on science; rather, it acknowledges that science can and does often change to correct theories, etc. Take the following hypothetical situation: science advocated some position z which seemed to be in confrontation with doctrine y, but then later science found that z was untenable–instead, it was x which was more likely, and x served as scientific affirmation of y. This convoluted scenario seems problematic for those who endorse 4), for they would give up y at first, but then would they take y as true again once x was advocated?

3) seems equally unacceptable because the opposite scenario would work to show potential absurdities in such a view. On this view, take the following example: science takes position z which serves to support the doctrinal position y, but then new discoveries are made which show that x is really the case, which goes against y. The scientist, however, can run multiple tests that demonstrate beyond a doubt that x is indeed the case. It doesn’t seem to me to be intellectually honest to say that x is not the case. Doctrine y would need to be evaluated Biblically and evaluated to see if it really fit the picture, not only that, but x and z would have to be evaluated Biblically.

2) seems to fare little better. Clearly there are places that science and faith will overlap, as has been demonstrated in this series of posts on the Life Dialogue. It seems as though the advocate of 2) would have to argue that any apparent overlap between science and faith is really just that: apparent. It seems to overlap but in reality it does not. However, the advocate of 2) could simply advance the argument that perhaps these positions do overlap in a sense, but the overlap doesn’t matter, as they are investigating different parts of reality. Faith explores the metaphysical aspects of a situation, x, while science explores the empirical aspects.

So why do I prefer 1)? I take for granted that faith explains reality. The claim, for example, that “God exists” seems to me not only obvious, but demonstrably true. Science also explains reality. Thus, as I accept that both science and faith explain reality, I believe that they must operate in a mutually beneficial way: where one has nothing specific to say, the other takes over, where they both have things to say, the interplay will occur. But I see no reason to deny aspects of faith for science or vice versa. Thus, it seems to me that the Christian doesn’t need to deny science, but neither should he/she deny aspects of her faith.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Bible Difficulties 3: Joshua 6:21-24

The Bible has been compared to an anvil–no matter how hard people beat on it, it remains firm, it stands strong. I love this comparison, and I have my own to offer. The Word of God is like a sword being forged. It is under attack by others, who beat on it with hammers, trying to destroy it, yet in all their attacks, the Word only gets sharper, and its blade more keen. The Word stands.

This post is the third in a series I’ve been working on which discusses Bible Difficulties–hard passages in Scripture. Other posts in the series can be accessed here.

Summary

One of the most commonly-cited difficulty with Scripture is the charge that God commands wicked actions. I’ve offered other defenses of such charges before (see here and here), but here I’d like to examine one specific case (and I will likely do so in the future as well). Today I’ll discuss the case of Jericho found in Joshua 6:21-24 (found in  context here).

These verses say: “They devoted the city to the LORD and destroyed with the sword every living thing in it—men and women, young and old, cattle, sheep and donkeys… Then they burned the whole city and everything in it, but they put the silver and gold and the articles of bronze and iron into the treasury of the LORD’s house.” (Joshua 6:21, 24).

Why is this passage difficult?

Surely this is a hard truth! Men, women, children, and animals are destroyed due to God’s command.

Commentary

There are a number of ways commentators address these verses and others like them. I’m going to outline my own view, which is a synthesis of many others.

Most importantly is the idea that the entirety of Scripture witnesses of God’s relationship to man. This is made specific in the revealed incarnation of God into the person of Jesus. Thus, verses like these should be seen in light of the whole of Scripture. More on this in a bit.

The second most important point is that God is, necessarily, sovereign. Sovereignty implies that God is in absolute control of the universe. This point is so important because it is the case that God has created all living things and has sustained them by His grace. Thus, all things owe each second of their lives to Him. We don’t deserve anything, only God deserves anything–which is our adoration, thanksgiving, and praise.

Now, before getting into a Scripture-in-context argument, we can examine this individual case. The charge is (essentially) that  God is unjust for allowing and endorsing the total destruction of Jericho, including women, children, and animals. Geisler and Howe make the fivefold argument, found in The Big Book of Bible Difficulties, that

1) The Canaanites were far from innocent. The Canaanites abhorrent immorality is described in Leviticus 18, which includes descriptions of such Canaanite practices as child sacrifice (see Leviticus 18:21, 24, 25, and 26). These people were not walking around minding their own business. They were a dangerous, defiled nation (Geisler, 137).

2) God had given Palestine more than 400 years to repent, starting with the promise to Abraham in Genesis 15:16. The people of the land, however, had not repented (137).

3) In regards to killing everyone, including women and children, the fact of the matter is that they were part of a people whose depravity was such that anyone who came in contact with it was polluted (see Leviticus 18 once more). Geisler and Howe further put forward the controversial view that children who die before the age of accountability go to heaven (they cite 2 Samuel 12:23 for this) and so God was being merciful by bringing them to Him rather than having them condemned for eternity (138–I am not endorsing the latter part of this argument, but I think it was worth repeating here).

4) God’s sovereignty means that He who has created life may also take it (138).

5) The threat of such a vile, violent, and corrupt people meant they must be eradicated so as not to lead astray God’s chosen people, who had already shown themselves susceptible to such apostasy (138).

I think that Geisler and Howe make a fairly credible defense here, though I think a high understanding of Christology can enhance the defense further. The Lutheran Study Bible commentary about “Divine Warfare” states that “Satan and man’s sin started warfare… Christ’s divine warfare [his death and resurrection] achieves victory and salvation… divine warfare [is] God’s just punishment [for] human sin… the Church’s warfare is spiritual… a Christian view of warfare must distinguish Law from Gospel” (376). These points combine to show a Christian understanding of such passages:

As I mentioned above, Christ can be seen as the key to understanding even these passages. Paul, in the book of Romans, writes that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (3:23). There is no one righteous, not even one (3:10). Thus, all deserve death and punishment similar to that of Jericho. However, God, in His mercy, sent His Son to die once for all sinners, thus opening salvation to all who believe. This is by faith, not by works (Ephesians 2:8-9). Therefore, when viewing a difficult passage such as this, as Christians, we can see a distinction between Law and Gospel. God’s Law is evident in His Just dealings with sinners–the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23a)–while also remembering that God’s mercy is in all things, for “the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 6:23b).

Further, one very important point to make in all matters like this is that the Christian understanding includes the belief that all things have eternal relevance. Things that happen in this life have repercussions for the next. As such, any understanding of temporal suffering should take into account God’s plan of eternal salvation for all who believe.

Sources:

Geisler, Norman and Thomas Howe. The Big Book of Bible Difficulties. Baker Books. 1992.

The Lutheran Study Bible. Concordia Publishing House. 2009.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

The Life Dialogue: Old Earth Creationism 2

This is part of a series of posts on the “Life Dialogue” within Christianity. Check out other posts in the series here.

Last time I wrote about Old Earth Creationism (OEC), I referred to Hugh Ross’s More than a Theory. Perhaps the most interesting part of Ross’s “Reasons to Believe” (RTB) Model was that in order to harmonize a seeming mix of creationist, intelligent design (ID), and theistic evolutionist (TE) views, the model argued that humans were specially created. This was, I perceived, partially to avoid the problem that can be leveled against TE or ID, which is that man died before sin, which goes against Scripture. Thus, by asserting that mankind was specially created, and only died when humanity fell into sin, the RTB Model avoids this charge.

I was surprised to learn that it wasn’t only for theological reasons that the RTB Model made this argument. Rana and Ross (hereafter I’m going to say “RR”) argue in Who Was Adam? that there is reason to believe that Adam and Eve were specially made by God. RR assert that while the fossil record does indeed show evidence various hominids (distinguished importantly from humans), none of these can be seen as evolutionary stages or transitional forms that lead to humans.

The RTB model holds that God created the first humans through divine intervention, that all humanity came from Adam and Eve, that humanity originated in a single geographical location, that God created Adam and Eve fairly recently (10,000-100,000 years ago), that humanity’s female lineage would date later than the male lineage, that God prepared Earth for humanity’s advent and created humans at “a special moment” for humanity, human beings share physical characteristics with animals, that humanity displays distinct characteristics from animals, that life spans of humans were much longer at one time, that a universal flood shaped early human history, and that humanity spread from somewhere in or near the Middle East (RR, 43-51).

Clearly, I don’t have time to outline the entirety of their argument in a post. I’m only going to hit on the major points.

RR argue that molecular anthropology point to humanity’s origin from a mitochondrial Adam and Eve (73 and the pages surrounding). This is due to DNA evidence pointing not to multiple origins, but simply one X and one Y chromosome giving rise to the rest of humanity. This is evidence supporting a number of points in their model outlined above.

The next stage in their argument reflects the same idea that I’ve expressed before: different views of the same evidence are possible. I see ways to take the data RR presented here as evidence for evolution, but I also see how it can be interpreted as support for OEC. RR point to the fossil record, which contains various hominids. The archaeological evidence, however, does not support anything more advanced than the most basic usage of tools for these hominids. This, they argue, reflects the “image of God” in humanity. Early humans (contrasted here with hominids) arrive with complex tools immediately, religious beliefs and practices, etc. (77ff, 139ff).

RR argue that humanity came about when the conditions were exactly perfect for human civilization (97ff). This, combined with various arguments against the common descent of man from hominids (including the argument that there is no clear way to set up such a chain [139ff]), scientific analysis of and arguments refuting ideas that we came from either neanderthals (179ff) or chimpanzees (199ff), and finally examples of how “Junk” DNA is actually useful lead to the conclusion of RR’s argument:

“Genetic studies of human population groups signify that humanity had a recent origin in a single geographical location from a small population, with genetic links back to a single man and single woman… The research also demonstrates that humanity and human civilization arose relatively recently near (or in) the Middle East to fill the earth… The archaeological record reveals a veritable explosion of human culture–anthropology’s ‘big bang’–which marks the appearance of God’s image… At no other time in human history has the biblical account of humanity’s origin held greater scientific credibility than it does today… man is the crown of God’s creation (248-250).”

It seems to me that RR make a fairly strong case for their side, but the evidence they present could be easily used by theistic evolutionists (arguing within Christianity here) as well. Thus, I don’t think RR have definitively shown that the RTB Model is superior in regards to the origins of man, though they have offered a compelling argument that ties in with the rest of the RTB. Taken as a whole, I believe the RTB Model offers superior explanatory power in a number of aspects. Not only that, but as seen in Who Was Adam? it avoids the theological argument against views like Theistic Evolution or Intelligent Design.

I continue to find the RTB Model perhaps the most compelling of any side of the Life Debate within Christianity. As I’ve noted before, I don’t see any reason to throw myself in fully behind any of these views. Rather, I intend to pick and choose based on my presuppositions. In all things, however, Christ has preeminence (Colossians 1:15ff).

Sources:

Rana, Fazale and Hugh Ross. Who Was Adam? Navpress. 2005.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Talk About God: Does It Mean Anything?

Can we talk about God in meaningful ways? When we say things like “God is loving”, what do we mean? Is it somehow literal? Can talk about God be literal?

These questions, and many others like them are often asked within philosophy of religion. These types of questions may initially seem trivial. Christians may see such questions and think, “Well, obviously we can speak of God meaningfully! The Bible speaks of God constantly, and it has meaning, so clearly such talk has meaning!” There are, however, some rather strong objections to such notions.

Take the statement “God is wise.” What does this mean? Compare it to the statement “Socrates is wise.” Do we mean “God is wise” to mean the same thing as “Socrates is wise?” Perhaps, but clearly God’s wisdom is infinite, while Socrates’ wisdom is finite. Can the two things really be analogically or literally compared? Clearly we don’t mean that God is wise in literally the same sense as we mean Socrates is wise. The content, level, etc. of God’s wisdom is infinitely more/higher/etc. than that of Socrates. Such is one way to put the objection to human language’s ability to refer to the divine (Basinger, 245 [citing an argument from Frederick Ferre]).

These questions are quite basic to theism. If we can’t talk about God in meaningful ways, then assertions such as “Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior” are, quite literally, meaningless. Thus, it is essential for the theist to provide a defense for the belief that God can be referred to not just analogically, but also literally.

Interestingly, for a time, many theists asserted that we could refer to God only (or at least primarily) in analogical ways. They were able to defend an ability to refer to God utilizing analogies by acknowledging a “proper proportionality” usage of analogy. On this view (utilizing the example above), we mean both God is wise and Socrates is wise in terms of proportion to their properties and attributes. Thus, when we say “God is wise” we mean infinitely so, but with Socrates we only mean finite wisdom (Basinger, 244).

This sounds plausible, but it may not actually solve the problem. William P. Alston (who uses the term metaphor instead of analogy) argues that within metaphorical (analogical) talk about God, there is indeed some kind of literal application of terms to God. This is because:

1) When utilizing a metaphor (or analogy), the subject must be similar in some way or another to the exemplar such that the subject can be a useful model of the latter (Alston, 27). For example, if we were to say that x is y, that means that x is, in some way, like y. If we say “God is my rock”, that means that God is, in some way, like a rock (28).

2) If it is possible to form a concept of P, then it is possible to utilize language to talk about P (28). For any concept we can have, we are able to somehow utilize language to discuss that concept. The same is true. We can have a concept of God (even if it is horribly mistaken or if God isn’t real)–which means we can use language to talk about God.

But what about literal talk about God? Can we refer to God in literal ways? Take a well-known example: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” בראשׁית ברא אלהים את השׁמים ואת הארץ

This seems to be claiming something about God. He literally created the heavens and the earth. But can it really mean anything literally? Rather than trying to prove that such talk is literal, Alston sets out to show that there are no barriers to the claim that they are indeed literal terms (39 ff). Incorporeality, for example, is not a barrier to God’s literal actions because the concept of action doesn’t have anything that necessitates a physical body in order to perform action. Rather, action is defined as bringing about change by an act of will, decision, or intention (72).

He asserts that when claims are made about actions performed by God, they can be referred to as “basic actions.” A basic action is an action which is not performed by performing some other action (Alston, 55). In other words, if a young man moves a load of dirt from one place to another, this is not a basic action, for this movement is caused by the young man’s motion of his arms and legs (and so on). But, argues Alston, for God, many actions could be basic actions. God’s attributes of omnipotence, omniscience, etc. mean that for any action God wishes to perform, it could be basic (61). Not only that, but God could still choose to operate indirectly. Alston uses the example of God utilizing Cyrus to bring about freedom for the Israelites as an example of God’s using indirect action (62).

Thus, it seems that there aren’t any specific reasons to deny that God can indeed be referred to literally in action predicates. Similarly, if we can refer to God metaphorically with some kind of literal meaning, it seems as though we can know in some sense what it would mean to say that “God is loving.”

Another strong objection to human language and God is the idea of the infinite (briefly described above). If God is infinite, so the claim goes, then humans can’t know or talk about Him in meaningful ways. We can’t access the infinite. It seems to me as though analogical/metaphorical talk about God is one way to solve this issue (as above). But there are other reasons to think this fails as an objection. The primary reason, as I see it, is that God’s infinite attributes can be seen simply as properties. But it is indeed true that for any property, P, and any being, x, x either has P or ~P. So if God has omnipotence (P), it follows that we humans either have P or ~P (clearly the latter). However, if this is true, then the same objection to the infinite would apply to humanity, for ~P in this case is an infinite property.

This leads to another answer to such an objection. Perhaps omnipotence isn’t a property so much as something which entails a set of properties–specifically, the ability to do anything logically possible. This then assigns God an infinite list of properties, composed of phrases like, “Being able to bring it about that x.” This initially seems problematic, but then, by the rule set out above, we humans would also have either these properties or their denials. Thus, we have an infinite set of properties as well, most of which will be negative (for we are able to bring about some things). Thus, the argument falls apart on these grounds as well. It doesn’t matter if God conceptually or actually has infinite properties–this in no way forms a barrier to talking about or knowing God, because for any property God has, we humans have either that same property or its complement. Thus, we would also be infinite either positively or negatively.

Therefore, it seems to be quite clearly the case that we can indeed talk about God literally, metaphorically, and meaningfully. Not only do the objections to such talk fail, but there are also good reasons to think that we can indeed talk about God in such ways.

Sources:

Alston, William P. Divine Nature and Human Language: Essays in Philosophical Theology. Cornell. 1989.

Basinger, Hasker, et al. Reason and Religious Belief: An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion. Oxford. 2009.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

The Historicity of Jesus: The Tools for the Task

This is part of a series I’ve entitled “Jesus: the Living God,” which explores Jesus from Biblical, theological, and apologetic levels. View other posts in the series here.

For now, let us focus on the “tools for the task” (Wright, 29 and following). What kind of historical, textual means are used to talk about Jesus? I’ll be outlining views made by N.T. Wright in his The New Testament and the People of God, (hereafter NTPG) and Blomberg in The Historical Reliability of the Gospels. First, I should outline my presuppositions. I believe that Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior, whose salvation is freely available to all who believe by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8-9). There is no other name by which we are saved (Acts 4:12). I believe that the Bible is the Holy, Inerrant Word of God. It is infallible in its teachings.

Wright argues for a “critical realist” view of history. This view describes a “process of ‘knowing’ that acknowledges the reality of the thing known, as something other than the knower… while also fully acknowledging that the only access we have to this reality lies along the spiralling path of appropriate dialogue or conversation between the knower and the thing known” (Wright, 35 emphasis his). This acknowledges that observers have their own point of views, that they have their own interpretations, and that metaphysical beliefs will influence interpretation of data (36). This is vitally important throughout not just Wright’s body of works, but any historical (or other field) study–one’s presuppositions will influence how one interprets the same data.

Wright argues that one primary function of worldviews is to tell “stories” (38). This doesn’t mean these stories are fiction, rather, Wright is arguing that these stories form the basis of a worldview as well as the ways the worldview will interact with other views (38-40). In the context of the New Testament, “They [first-century Jews] never expressed a worldview in which the god in question was uninterested in, or uninvolved with, the created world in general, or the historical fortunes of his people in particular” (41). It is this worldview that, upon reading more of Wright, I think Wright not only acknowledges but agrees with. God is not uninterested or uninvolved, rather, the opposite is true–God is intimately involved and interested in His creation and creatures.

Wright emphasizes the “impossibility of ‘Mere History'” that is wholly divorced from any worldview (82). This doesn’t mean there are no facts… rather, it means there is no such thing as an uninterpreted fact (88). These interpretations are generally used in conjunction with historical hypotheses. Thus, it is important to note what composes a good historical hypothesis:

1) The historical hypothesis must include the data. One cannot, for example, simply drop the eschatology which was clearly part of Jesus’ teachings as well as the rest of the New Testament, in order to make one’s hypothesis easier to produce. The data must all be included (99).

2) “It must construct a basically simple and coherent overall picture” (100).

3) The hypothesis must show that it is useful in related areas, it must explain other problems (100).

It is important to realize that a simply enormous amount of material has been produced on Jesus and the Gospels, not to mention the rest of the New Testament. Thus, I will turn to Craig Blomberg’s work, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels (hereafter HRG) to analyze some of the ways this study has been done. The tools for our task (to borrow Wright’s terminology) should utilize the best available evidence from New Testament scholarship, while discerning everything in light of the truth of Scripture.

Craig Blomberg wonderfully summarizes the various methods of historical criticism and analyzes them for usefulness  in HRG. Note that I’m not endorsing historical criticism, rather, I’m endorsing taking what is useful from historical criticism and use it as part of the toolbox. In my summing up, I’m leaving out much of Blomberg’s task of pointing out flaws in these criticisms (which is not only in-depth, but also illuminating), but rather emphasizing his ways to use them in the presuppositions that I’ve outlined above.

1) Form Criticism- Form criticism emphasizes the genre of the work being viewed (Blomberg, 50). It also discusses how a text was transmitted or brought into being. Christians can find this useful as it can be readily implemented in the “historical grammatical” type of reading of Scriptures. The background of the text is indeed important, as well as realizing the genre involved (i.e. the historical telling of what Jesus did, as opposed to His parables, which are not literal history).

2) Redaction Criticism- Redaction criticism views the writers of the Gospels as “editors” of the New Testament, “selecting, arranging, and rewording their sources to highlight particular theological and stylistic emphases” (Blomberg, 67). Christians can utilize this not to break down the reality of the Gospels, but rather they can use it as they realize there are indeed differences in the portrayal of Jesus in the Gospels (i.e. Mark’s suffering servant and Matthew’s son of David), not as contradictions, but as parts to a whole picture of Christ as suffering servant, son of David, compassionate teacher, and Word Incarnate (74).

3) Midrash- Midrash criticism of the Gospels focus on the “relationship of the Gospels to various [Hebrew Scripture] passages to which they may refer” (75). Clearly, this has uses for the Christian. How did the writers of the Gospels utilize Hebrew Scriptures to make their arguments or draw their conclusions about who Jesus was and what He did? This is vitally important to Christological study–who did Jesus say He was, based on the passages He cites, and who did others say He was?

4) Literary Criticism- this discipline is broken down into three types, though the most useful type for the Christian is the “narrative criticism” which analyzes characters, symbolism, figures of speech, etc. within the Gospels (87).

I’ve left out much of Blomberg’s analysis in order to simply sift off what we can use from these various methods, in light of the presuppositions I’ve outlined above. There is much more that could be said about either of these fantastic works (NTPG or HRG), and there is much more that could be said about the “tools for the task”, but for now, these are our tools, and I shall soon move into some of the historicity of Jesus.

Sources:

Blomberg, Craig L. The Historical Reliability of the Gospels. InterVarsity Press. 2007.

Wright, N.T. The New Testament and the People of God. Fortress. 1992.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Evil and God: Analytic Counters to the Problem of Evil

The problem of evil is one of the most commonly pushed objections to the existence of God.There have been, historically, two major ways this problem is presented. The first way is to suggest that evil and God are logically incompatible. The second way argues that evil reduces the probability of God’s existence.

The suggestion that evil and God are logically incompatible has been largely abandoned in recent scholarship due to the writings of theistic philosophers such as Alvin Plantinga. Atheistic philosophers who had pressed such a problem have largely abandoned such argumentation in favor of the second method–the probabilistic problem of evil (see Rowe, Draper, Mackie, etc. to see atheistic turnabout on this subject). It is widely acknowledged that there is no logical incompatibility (in the sense that it is a logical contradiction) for there to exist an omni-benevolent God and evil (Plantinga, 461).

Thus, the argument has turned to probabilistic arguments against the existence of God. These arguments often are something like, “Given the great amount of evil in the world, it seems unlikely that God [here meaning the God of Classical Theism] exists.” Given some amount of evil, E, it seems as though the probability that God exists is lower than .5 (50%). There are many problems with such arguments. I have argued this elsewhere (see here) , but there are further arguments I’d like to expand upon.

First, one major problem with such arguments is to figure out some way to measure evil (hereafter E). How do we objectively measure the amount of E in the world? But then this leads us to a second problem: if we can measure the amount of E in the world, what amount of E is such that the existence of God (call it “T” for theism) is unlikely? Where is the mark at which T is more likely than not, given E?

But apart from even these problems, there is the fact that some rather simple explanations or defenses can be used by theists. For example, the theist could assert that as long as there is any amount of good in the world, T is more likely than not. This doesn’t seem quite fair, so the theist could rather assert that given any E, there is the possibility that God utilizes E for good. But this may be unconvincing as well. There are still other “outs” for the theist.

Perhaps the most interesting and insightful defenses from this kind of problem of evil was made by Alvin Plantinga in the essential work, Warranted Christian Belief. He argues, utilizing a “multiverse” type of scenario:

“…a theist might agree that it is unlikely, given just what we know about our world that there is such a person as God. But perhaps God has created countless worlds, in fact, all the worlds… in which there is a substantial overall balance of good over evil. In some worlds there is no suffering and evil; in some a great deal; as it happens, we find ourselves in one of the worlds where there is a good deal. But the probability of theism, given the whole ensemble of worlds, isn’t particularly low” (Plantinga, 473).

This defense is almost joyfully simple, yet it reveals a looming problem for the anti-theist wielding the problem of evil. There are indeed countless scenarios just like this, or at least similar to it, in which theism has a “way out.” Plantinga mentions these throughout the same work (see pages 458-499).

There are other ways to defend against such arguments, however. The assertion is that the existence of some amount of E lowers T, given E. But of course the theist can easily grant this and simply argue that on the basis of their own background knowledge (hereafter “k”), the probability of T given E and k is quite high. Plantinga argues for the internal witness of the Holy Spirit, an assertion with which I stand in agreement (Plantinga, 290 and following). But we need not even appeal to a notion that will be as highly disputed as this.

For perhaps the theist has the belief that the cosmological argument seems plausible, or the ontological argument is quite convincing (as here), or perhaps they believe that the other alternatives (the other theistic religions, pantheism, naturalism, paganism, spiritualism, etc.) are even less likely than T. But then the theist has a high probability of T given k, even if the theist acknowledges that T’s probability given E is lower than before.

It then follows that the theist is justified in maintaining such theistic belief even in light of the problem of evil, for on k and E, they still believe there is a high probability that T is true.

Source:

Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief. Oxford. 2000.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Bible Difficulties Introduction

One of the most common objections I see to Christianity is a citation from Scripture (or a long list of citations from Scripture) which someone takes to be contradictory, evil, or something else such that it somehow discredits Christianity and the Bible.

While I do not think there are contradictions in the Bible (though there may be apparent contradictions), I do think that those who make citations or lists do have a point. As Christians, it is vitally important to take what the Bible says seriously. Contemplative reading of Scripture can often lead to questions or difficulties that one may wish to answer. Interestingly, while the unbeliever generally takes these difficulties to be intractable problems that inevitably should destroy faith, the believer can approach such difficulties with an attitude that actually uses such difficulties as opportunities to increase in one’s understanding of Scripture.

It is only fair that I share my presuppositions immediately. I believe the Bible is the Holy, inerrant (in the autographs) Word of God. It is the source for sound doctrine, but its central message is Christ Jesus my Lord. Other presuppositions can be viewed on my “About” page.

Thus, I begin a series of posts discussing various Bible difficulties. These difficulties may include apparent contradictions, hard sayings, hard stories, etc. This series will explore Bible difficulties on a verse-by-verse basis, addressing whatever verses I find interesting at any given time. It will utilize an understanding of Greek and Hebrew, as well as commentaries and apologetics works. This post serves both as an the introduction and place for links to the other posts in this series (similar to the Evolution-Creation-ID debate links here).

Bible Difficulties 1 Judges 11:29-40

Bible Difficulties 2: Adopting the Attitude of the Ethiopian (Acts 8:27 and following)

Bible Difficulties 3: Joshua 6:21-24

Bible Difficulties 4: Hardening Hearts (Exodus 4:21)

The Teleological Argument

The “Teleological Argument,” which is also known as the “Argument from Design,”  has been popularized by the Intelligent Design movement, though the version I defend below is cosmological rather than biological.

The Teleological Argument is an inductive argument that doesn’t attempt to prove that God exists, but rather argues to justify or confirm that belief. In other words, it can function much like the Argument from Religious Experience in providing warrant, not proof, for belief. It’s an inductive argument that seeks to increase the probability of theism, not prove it.

Robin Collins wrote the chapter on the Teleological Argument in The Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology, entitled “The Teleological Argument: An Exploration of the Fine-Tuning of the Universe.” I can honestly say that I only understood about 70-80% of the material. While there is a large amount of hefty philosophical argumentation involved, it was the double-dose of astronomy and physics (things I have an average-at-best understanding of) that kept me from fully understanding this chapter. That said, I think That I understood enough to have the core of the argument intact. Collins argues that the universe has been “fine-tuned” to be a Life-Permitting Universe (LPU). He states that “This fine-tuning falls into three major categories: that of the laws of nature, that of the constants of physics, and that of the intial conditions of the universe…” (BCNT, 202).

I have long been skeptical of the usefulness of the Teleological Argument, but Collins puts forward a rather subdued version, in which he doesn’t loftily claim to prove God’s existence, but rather to state that “…given the fine-tuning evidence, LPU strongly supports T[heism] over the [Naturalistic Single Universe Hypothesis (hereafter referred to as the NSU)]” (205). Thus, instead of arguing that theism is true based on teleology, he argues that naturalism is less likely than theism based on teleology.

Collins pits the “Theistic Hypothesis” (as he calls it, T) against the NSU. He introduces the “Likelihood Principle,” which, in my own stripped down version basically states that if there is some evidence, e in favor of a hypothesis (say, T) over another (NSU), then T is more likely (205). All of this sounds, as I said, very subdued. The Teleological Argument as Collins presents it is not an end-all, be-all argument to convince everyone, but rather seems to be a justification for belief.

Now we must return to the evidence for fine-tuning. As previously stated, this falls into three categories: the laws of nature, the constants of nature, and the intial conditions of the universe (202). The laws or principles of nature that are required for “self-reproducing, highly complex material systems” (211) are 1) a universal attractive force, such as gravity 2) a force similar to the strong nuclear force, 3) a force similar to electromagnetic force, 4) Bohr’s Quantization Rule or something similar (electrons occupy only fixed orbitals [213]), and 5) the Pauli Exclusion Principle (“no two fermions… can occupy the same quantum state” [213]). The reason such things are required is because without #1, things would just float around everywhere, #2 allows for nucleons to stay together, without which it seems obvious there would be no complexity, #3, if it were not true, would mean there were no atoms (for nothing could hold them in orbit [212]), #4 allows electrons to keep energy, and #5 directly allows for complex chemistry (“without this principle, all eelectrons would occupy the lowest atomic orbital…” [213]) (211).

The constants of physics also are essential for an LPU. These include the constant of gravity and the cosmological constant (214, 215). Both of these seem necessary for the existence of life. The cosmological constant, for example, states that when it is positive, it will act as a repulsive force, but when negative, it will act as a negative force. If  this constant had been different than it is, then the universe would have expanded or collapsed too quickly for stars and galaxies to form (215).

Naturalistic alternatives will be lacking. For example, one of the most likely alternatives for the naturalist is to discover some set of laws such that they explain the cosmological constant being what it is. But if this is the case, the naturalist has only pushed the question up one step higher, for now one could ask for an explanation for the fine-tuning of such a law. Another problem is that, as always, it seems the naturalist is assuming that an explanation will be discovered (219). There are a few problems with this in itself. One is that it is an argument to the future, which is a logical fallacy. One cannot simply state that one’s position is correct by stating that one day it will be demonstrated. Further, the naturalist may claim the theist has now created a “God of the gaps.” This is another fallacious way to attempt to argue against the theist. As stated before, the assumption that science will one day fill in every gap is a fallacy: argument to the future. Naturalists create their own “science of the gaps” in which they assume every gap will be filled by science. Another problem is that in order for the naturalist’s objection “God of the gaps” to work, it must carry weight for the theist, lest it be question-begging in nature. Yet there is no plausible way that, given theism, appealing to God for explanation of some concept should be ruled out a priori. Thus, the naturalist begs the question in objecting in a “God of the gaps” fashion. Further, such an objection as the “God of the gaps” is question begging in that they assume the theist is proposing theism as a scientific hypothesis. This is not the case. The theist is proposing God as a metaphysical and philosophical explanation, not a scientific one (225). Not only that, but if, for example, there is some theory of everything yet to be discovered, this would only push the fine-tuning up one level, and the naturalist would have to explain the existence of this theory of everything. The Teleological Argument doesn’t lose weight in light of such objections.

The Teleological Argument Collins brings forward is (my very summed up version, though all of the following are direct quotes):

“1) Given the fine-tuning evidence, LPU is very, very epistemically unlikely under NSU…

2) Given the fine-tuning evidence, LPU is not unlikely under theism…

3) Theism was advocated prior to the fine-tuning evidence (and has independent motivation)

4) Therefore, by the restricted version of the Likelihood Principle, LPU strongly supports Theism over NSU (207)”

The first premise is one that should not really be all that heavily debated. Just as one example, the cosmological constant is fine tuned to about 1 part in 10^120 (Reasonable Faith by William Lane Craig, 159). There are many other constants that have such unfathomably small likelihood of occurring. The difference is in how one explains this. Some argue for brute fact (it just is), but others argue based on the multiverse hypothesis.

Collins argues in various ways against the multiverse hypothesis scientifically. I will present my own argument, which is philosophical in nature. If our universe is one of many (perhaps infinitely many), then a number of logical problems arise. One is the problem of discovery. If we are granting naturalism, then how do we scientifically discover these other universes, if, based on the multiverse hypothesis, we cannot? Not only that, but there are modal problems with the multiverse hypothesis. Given an infinite number of universes that exist, then it seems highly likely there are other “J.W. Wartick”s in these universes. But there would likely be a far greater number in which there is no “J.W. Wartick” (much to the chagrin of the inhabitants!). If this is the case, then I simultaneously exist and do not exist, which is contradictory. But, it could be argued, these other “J.W. Wartick”s are not actually me, they are alternate mes in entirely different universes! This only introduces other problems, such as identity.

This problem is another discovery problem, but this one does not exist in a scientific sense but a philosophical one. How, for example, do we identify these other universes? How do we discover their properties? How do we infer any truths about our universe if, as stated just before, they are entirely different universes, and one cannot say that there are two “J.W. Wartick”s out there? In other words, if we state that the problem of “J.W. Wartick” existing and not existing isn’t a problem because these universes are not our own and are entirely different, how then do we derive knowledge of our own unverse from these hypothetical universes in the sense that we infer that our own universe isn’t all that unlikely given that we are one in infinite (or a great many)? One cannot have it both ways.

Others modify the multiverse hypothesis to say that there really aren’t infinite universes out there, but rather only those with laws similar to our own, selected by a sort of naturalistic machine that determines which universes are and are not possible. But if this is the case, then we have again only shifted the problem of our own existence from one point on the ladder to another. What determines this “machine” that selects universes non-arbitrarily (for it must not be arbitrary if we are using it to try to explain apparent fine-tuning)? Thus, this hypothesis doesn’t solve anything.

Then there is what Collins calls the “Weak Anthropic Principle objection.” I believe this is the claim Dawkins was making that I analyzed in another post. Collins writes, “According to the weak verson of the so-called Anthropic Principle, if the laws of nature were not fine-tuned, we should not be here to comment on the fact. Some have argued, therefore, that LPU is not really improbable or surprising at all under NSU, but simply follows from the fact that we exist” (277). There are a few problems with this, as I pointed out in the post I linked with Dawkins (such as the claim that such a thing is necessarily true that is implicit). But there are even more problems. The first is the argument could simply be restated to argue that our existence as embodied moral agents is extremely unlikely under NSU, but not under theism (277).

More convincing, however, is an example:

Imagine that I am standing to be executed, with 50 sharpshooters ready to fire at me. They fire, and they all miss. Would my response really be, “if they had not missed me, I would not be here to consider the fact?” Such a response is inadequate. One would almost be forced to conclude that there was some reason they all missed, given the background information that had the intention been to kill me, they almost certainly would have killed me (276).

Thus, such a dismissal of the evidence as Dawkins performs misses the mark (pun slightly intended).

Brute Fact must similarly be discareded as an explanation. Dr. Parrish argues in his book God and Necessity (which I recently read and discussed) that Brute Fact is logically undercut as an explanation for a number of reasons. These include that the Brute Fact hypothesis states explicitly that everything is random. If this is the case, then there should be no laws to observe, and, in fact, things should randomly be happening constantly. But Brute Fact proponents may argue that everything was random, but once it started, it was determined (God and Necessity, Stephen E. Parrish, 189).  This, however, ignores the fact that relationships, in Brute Fact, are completely random. There is no reason to believe that, for example, a law should continue to operate how it does, even if we can observe it for a great deal of time doing so. Further, if such things were set in place upon being randomly selected by Brute Facy randomness, there are two major probelms. The first is that Brute Fact has no way to explain why such things should become determined upon selection, and the second is that even if one could get around this first problem, there remains no way to explain why it should always be the case. If everything is random, then everything is random, necessarily. There can be no constants.

Thus, it seems as though theism is the best way to explain the fine-tuning of the universe. Multiverse hypotheses fail in that they have scientific (which I did not discuss) and logical problems. Brute Fact can’t account for constants. Finally, just saying that we are here to observe the universe doesn’t do anything to undermine questions that ask Why are we here, and not somewhere else, or nowhere?

I don’t believe the Teleological Argument proves God exists, but it does add a significant amount of warrant to the belief that He does.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Religious Experiences: Providing Warrant for Belief in God

Religious experience is something that has been shared by a significant minority (although it is perhaps a majority) of the population of the world. Surveys indicate that in 2000 about 36% of the population of Britain reported some kind of spiritual experience (Kwan, 515). 36% is a significant minority, but the fact is that it is possible that this number is too low. In fact, when people were allowed to develop a relationship and then conduct an interview (rather than simply have an impersonal poll), the percent of positive responses when asked about a religious experience increases to 62-67% (Kwan, 515).

The numbers are significant. Many people have what they perceive of as spiritual or religious experiences. The number is literally millions, if not billions. But what does this really mean? Does it reveal anything about the universe? Is there any way to argue for truth from such a subjective judgment?

Richard Dawkins certainly does not think so. In The God Delusion, he discusses the “Argument from Personal ‘Experience’” (note his use of scare quotes). Dawkins uses an illustration in which a man he knew thought he had heard the voice of the devil while camping, and when he shared this with some zoologists, they laughed at him… for the noise was simply the noise a local bird makes (Dawkins, 112).

I believe Dawkins almost manages to make a good point here. We should be skeptical of religious or spiritual experiences, if we ever experience them (1 John 4:1- Test the spirits…).  But does this mean that every religious experience has a naturalistic explanation? Or indeed, does a naturalistic explanation somehow take precedence over a spiritual one?

Dawkins some convoluted argument against religious experience based mostly on the computational theory of mind (see here for a critique of CTM). I don’t think he is successful, but one can judge for themselves whether the CTM has any kind of explanatory power, or if it serves as a defeater for the spiritual (I again think it doesn’t in either case).

I would like to address the assumptions implicit in Dawkins’ story about religious experience in greater depth. If Dawkins doesn’t make this argument, it is certainly an argument I’ve heard many times before:

Conclusion: For any Religious Experience, there is a naturalistic explanation.

In the case of Dawkins’ story of the bird, there was indeed a naturalistic explanation. But there are two counters I would use against Dawkins and others who would argue against Religious Experience:

Counter 1: The claim that every religious experience has a naturalistic explanation begs the question.

Counter 2: A naturalistic explanation does not exclude other explanations.

First, let’s address Counter 1. I argue that the claim that every religious experience has a naturalistic explanation begs the question. What do I mean? Well, the claim that every religious experience has a naturalistic explanation assumes that for every experience, E, there is a naturalistic explanation. It does not allow for any explanation outside of naturalism to account for any E. To see this, let’s look at what Conclusion, above, analytically:

Conclusion: For any Religious Experience, there is a naturalistic explanation.

Thus: Religious Experiences, do, in fact, exist. (This follows from the first part of the conclusion, which assumes that there is such a thing as a religious experience).

Now, the fact remains that those who experience Religious Experiences (REs) certainly believe there is a non-naturalistic explanation. Hence the reason they are called REs to begin with.

It therefore follows that: A person S, who has an RE, believes that the RE has a non-naturalistic explanation.

But then the Conclusion listed above is really:

Conclusion*: Person S believes their RE is non-naturalistic, when in fact, there is naturalistic explanation.

Conclusion* begs the question, as does Conclusion. They both assume the conclusion “there is a naturalistic explanation” without any grounds to do so. In fact, they assume that the category RE is mistaken to begin with, and it is in fact simply a Naturalistic Experience, not an RE.

The burden of proof is on those who wish to claim that every RE has a naturalistic explanation to actually show that every RE has a naturalistic explanation, especially in light of the argument from theistic experience below. Any simple assumption that every RE has a naturalistic explanation simply begs the question against the Argument from Theistic Experience.

Now, Counter 2 must also be examined. “Counter 2: A naturalistic explanation does not exclude other explanations.”

Let us take Dawkins bird example. Let us change the RE in the example from an example of an evil force to that of a good one. So rather than a demonic sound, the man perhaps thinks he hears angels singing, or some such experience of God or His power. Now we know that the sound is actually just some kind of bird, the “Angel Voice” bird, common to the region. But what if the friend never found out that the noises had this naturalistic explanation? I believe anyone would agree he would happily go on assuming that the experience was an RE.

But what is it about a naturalistic explanation that is supposed to serve as a defeater of RE? I think it is generally assumed that the knowledge of a naturalistic explanation for an RE is supposed to defeat the RE. In other words, if the Angel-hearer found out that the angels were in fact just the “Angel Voice” bird, he would have to give up the experience as an RE and assume it is rather a naturalistic experience.

But why?

I don’t think that even the friend’s knowledge of a naturalistic explanation would necessarily serve as a defeater of the RE, for a few reasons:

1. At the time the friend experienced the event, he believed it was an RE. With an RE comes many emotions and other experiences. These emotions and experiences aren’t somehow invalidated by the idea that there is a naturalistic explanation to the RE. For example, think of someone, (A) who has been in love with someone else (B) for many years, believing there was a mutual love. But suddenly, B explains to A that B has never loved A. Does this somehow serve to invalidate A’s love for those years? Further, would A be required to  give up love for B immediately, or at all? I don’t believe so. In the same way, person A could believe that B is an RE, and despite finding out that B was in fact a natural event, could go on believing that B is an RE… leading into:

2. Religious Experiences are compatible with natural explanations. It is said throughout the Bible that nature speaks of the glories of God (Psalm 19:1 “The heavens declare the Glory of God…” Psalm 69, Psalm 93, etc.). God is seen within a Christian ontology as one who works in and through nature to sustain the universe. Thus to claim that nature is somehow a defeater of something God is thought to bring about (an RE) not only begs the question, but also misunderstands the Christian view of nature.

3. There are plenty of things that have known naturalistic explanations that are still seen as God’s work by Christians and people of other faiths worldwide. Some examples are the beauty of a waterfall, the stars, various plants and animals, places like the Grand Canyon, etc. People know why these things occur naturally, and yet freely attribute such things to God. They aren’t multiplying entities unnecessarily (don’t begin sharpening Occam’s Razor yet), because they are simply saying that there is a certain order and beauty in all of these things that points to teleology. Further, even if one does want to use Occam’s Razor here, the first and second points still stand.

I’d also like to point out that if God does, in fact, exist, it would be wholly within His power to order things in such a way that REs would have naturalistic explanations that the people who experience them never find out about (and then continue in their belief of the RE). While I am not comfortable with claiming this is how God works (I don’t believe God works through what could be seen as trickery or deception, but does actually work in and through the world He set up, that being nature), I’m merely stating that it is possible.

I believe that the Argument from Theistic Experience actually helps grant warrant to belief in God.

First, a definition:

PCT: Principle of Causal Trust – “If it seems (epistematically) to me that x is present on the basis of experience, then probably x is present unless there are special considerations to the contrary (Kwan, 508).”

The argument:

1. Type PCT is correct

2. Theistic Experience (TE) is a well-established type of experience

3. It seems (epistematically) to S that God exists on the basis of a TE.

4. The TE is not defeated

5. Therefore, S is justified to believe that God exists

(Kwan, 512)

Now note that I’m not  claiming that God does exist based on this argument, only that S is justified to believe that God does exist. I am thus confronting the de jure challenges to theistic belief–claims that such belief is unjustified or irrational (Plantinga, 167). These kind of challenges to theistic belief are exactly the kind that Dawkins seems to be referencing in The God Delusion, in fact, the book’s title points to the general accusation that anti-theists have brought against theism in general, but particularly against Christianity. The charge is that it is delusional to believe such things.

And indeed, such charges have (and likely will continue to be) been brought against Christianity despite, and perhaps even because of such arguments as the argument from TE. But I think that the PTC is indeed valid, and warrant is granted to those who have had TEs to take that on principal as a justification for belief.

There is of course further application involving a cumulative case argument in which TE can be weighed against simple spiritual experience or experiences of other faiths (such as a connection to the ONE or a feeling of emptiness). I don’t wish to explore that yet, but it is worth noting that there has been, of late, a somewhat significant increase in writings on these subjects.

I do believe that the argument from TE carries some weight, but it is mostly weight for those who have had TEs to counter charges that such ideas are delusional or unjustified, rather than being an argument for the existance of God. I think arguments of this type are fruitful, and I’m looking forward to reading more on them.

Sources:

Dawkins, Richard. The God Delusion.

Kwan, Kai-Man. “The Argument from Religious Experience.” The Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology.

Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief.

The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

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