Christianity
Process Philosophy: The Unity of Science and Religion
This post is part of a series on Process Philosophy. View other posts in the series here.
Perhaps the highest goal of Process Philosophy is the attempt to unite science and religion into a cohesive whole.
There are, according to David Ray Griffin (author of Reenchantment Without Supernaturalism, review here) two major sources of conflict between science and religion: 1) religion’s association with supernaturalism, on which the natural process can be interrupted for any reason by a deity, and 2) science’s association with atheistic, sensational materialism, on which God is methodologically rejected (Griffin, 23).
Process Philosophy seeks to eliminate these conflicts by proposing naturalistic theism, which seeks to be “supportive of the necessary presuppositions” of both “scientific and religious communities” (29). Part of this program is to appeal to our “hard-core commonsense notions”–our most basic assumptions under which we must function in order to make sense of reality. As such, anything which defies these notions is to be rejected, which means that “[a]ny scientific, philosophical, or theological theory is irrational, accordingly, to the extent that it contradicts whatever notions we inevitably presuppose in practice” (30, emphasis his).
This notion, according to Process Philosophy, builds the bridge to unite science and religion. Science, it is argued, cannot operate under the atheistic variety. It must, furthermore, assume mathematical and logical truths, which science cannot ground in sensory experience. This opens up the possibility, for one, of religious experience. This religious experience, which is nonsensational in nature (I’ll be writing on this in an upcoming post) is not to be ruled out, for the ground of all things, on Process Philosophy, is experience, not sensation.
Science also must allow the possibility of a naturalistic form of theism, for the “basic order of the world, the upward trend of the evolutionary process, the novelty that has appeared in this process, the world’s ‘excessive’ beauty, and the objectivity of normative ideals and other ideal (nonactual) entities, such as those of mathematics and logic…” must appeal to naturalistic theism in order to explain their existence (48, 169ff).
This relationship must, however, be mutually beneficial, and religion cannot operate without allowing modifications to come from science. There must be “mutual modification” (51, emphasis his).
Now, it is of vast importance at this juncture to explain exactly what naturalistic theism is, on Process Philosophy. The God proposed by Process Philosophy is in the world, not outside of it. As such, God is part of the processes of all things. God, as it were, is the prime mover and prime motivator. Because of the basis of all things in experience, God is seen as interacting with all things in a non-coercive way–God acts through persuasion to bring about good, and to bring order from chaos (129ff). Thus, God is, in some sense, natural–God is part of the order of all things.
Now I turn to the question I always ask of anything I read: What can the Christian learn from this?
Initially, it may seem the proper answer is “nothing,” however I do think we can learn some things from Process Philosophy here. First, it is important to note that the two problems which cause clashes between science and religion are real problems which need to be addressed by the thinking Christian. Second, God, on classical Christian theism, can be seen in some sense as working through nature to bring about those things which we call miracles. The parting of the Red (Reed?) Sea is often seen as one example of this–gale force winds which parted the sea are often cited. Similarly, the plagues on the Egyptians are often seen as having natural explanations, but these explanations do not exclude God from the equation. Perhaps the lesson Christians can learn here is that God does indeed utilize the physical process to bring about many of His goals. Christianity, however, must almost certainly reject any notion which says that God cannot interrupt the natural process, unless one argues that it is logically impossible so to do (the definition of God’s omnipotence is almost universally acknowledged to mean God can do what is logically possible). Thus, at best, Process Philosophy’s view of Deity can show how God generally works, but it oversteps its bounds in suggesting that God cannot do otherwise.
The idea of God acting persuasively rather than coercively has much to commend it, particularly in light of recent trends in Christian philosophy of religion. Namely, this idea is highly beneficial to the freedom of the will theodicy, as well as in versions of Christianity which are non-deterministic. This is one of the great interactions Christians can have with Process Philosophy–a dialogue about human freedom and divine interactions with the world.
What of science and religion in mutual modification? I must admit I am more friendly to this idea than some–perhaps even most–but I am wary of how Process Philosophy wields this idea. Process Philosophy explicitly denies any kind of special revelation in the form of Scripture (257), which Christians cannot accept, in my opinion, for it undermines the central beliefs of Christianity. I don’t think Process Philosophy is even capable of arguing for their denial of special revelation (and oddly enough, many process theologians argue for the uniqueness of the incarnation of Christ). Science cannot operate over and above religion, rather, the truths of God and His unique Revelation describe reality as such. Science serves to explain how this reality operates.
The Christian has much to learn from those who are outlining Process Philosophy and Theology. We learn to sharpen our intellect and better defend our beliefs. Process Philosophy offers some insights about how God works, though it also features many ideas about God that Christians explicitly reject. I think we have some things to learn here, but we must be careful to analyze these things in light of the truth revealed in Scripture.
Source:
Griffin, David Ray. Reenchantment Without Supernaturalism: A Process Philosophy of Religion. Cornell University Press. 2001.
Image source:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Raindrop_on_a_fern_frond.jpg
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Book Review: Reenchantment Without Supernaturalism by David Ray Griffin
Reenchantment Without Supernaturalism: A Process Philosophy of Religion by David Ray Griffin (hereafter RWS) is a vast work. because of the nature of this book–namely, its place as, essentially, an outlining and explication of a religion–I feel it is necessary to continue discussion of this work past the present review. I’ll be doing a series on Process Philosophy.
RWS covers an incredibly broad range of topics. Summing up a work of this scope would take too much space, so I’ll give only a brief outline. The central doctrines of Process Philosophy are (quoted at length):
1) “The integration of moral, aesthetic, and religious intuitions with the most general doctrines of the sciences into a self-consistent worldview as one of the central tasks of philosophy in our time” (5)
2) “Hard-core commonsense notions as the ultimate test of the adequacy of a philosophical position” (5)
3) “Whitehead’s nonsensationist doctrine of perception, according to which sensory perception is a secondary mode of perception, being derivative from a more nonsensory ‘prehension'”(5)
4) “Panexperientialism with organizational duality, according to which all the true individuals… have at least some iota of experience and spontaneity (self-determination)” (6)
5) “The doctrine that all enduring individuals are serially ordered socieities of momentary ‘occasions of experience'” (6)
6) “[A]ll actual entities have internal as well as external relations” (6)
7) “[N]aturalistic theism, according to which a Divine Actuality acts variably but never supernaturally in the world” (6)
8 ) “Doubly Dipolar Theism” (7)
9) “The provision of cosmological support for the ideals needed by contemporary civilization as one of the chief purposes of philosophy in our time” (7)
10) “A distinction between verbal statements (sentences) and propositions and between both of these and propositional feelings” (7)
Whew! And that is just the introduction of a 425 page work!
These doctrines I’ll let speak for themselves, but it is immediately clear that Process Philosophy can be identified as a religion, either on its own, or in conjunction with another religion of the world. These doctrines are enough to support a robust naturalistic theism which differs in many ways from classical theism.
Process Philosophy affirms that sense experience is not primary (see esp. 55). It also rejects both physicalism and dualism, calling instead for panexperientialism, which is the idea that everything in the universe–down to the smallest entity, has experience of some sort. In other words, the basic units of “stuff” in our universe are neither ideal (as in some forms of dualism) or material (as in materialism and other forms of dualism), but experiential (94ff).
God, on Process Philosophy, is in the world. It is panentheistic as opposed to theistic or pantheistic. God is not supernatural, but is rather a necessary part of the universe (131ff). God created the world not ex nihilo, but out of chaos, which Griffin argues is the correct reading of the Hebrew Scriptures, particularly Genesis (I disagree strongly here, for it seems like there is much evidence for the use of bara to refer to creation ex nihilo).
I can’t resist veering off the summary path here and critiquing this view specifically. The problem with affirming that God created the world out of some existent finite entities (see 216) is that that leaves both God and these finite entities with no explanation for their existence. God, argues Griffin, exists necessarily, but there is no reason I could find given for this. Furthermore, there is absolutely no explanation of how these other finite entities came into being. It seems as though they are asserted to simply exist forever, but this runs into the many problems with an infinite past. I simply don’t think Griffin has adequately defended this doctrine of Process Philosophy, and most of it hinges around this idea. I’ll get into this more as I continue my series, however.
Not only that, but Process Philosophy upholds the idea that there are two distinct “ultimate realities” in our universe; namely, a personal deity, and an impersonal, “creativity”. This is one of the more interesting affirmations of Process Philosophy: that all major religions are true in a qualified sense (247ff). In affirming that all major religions are in some sense true, Process Philosophy also argues that they must all learn from each other to work towards a religion that more adequately reflects reality (more on this later in the series).
Process Philosophy affirms the possibility of an afterlife, but doesn’t seem to take it as terribly likely (204ff). Furthermore, it asserts that morality can be done from the point of an “ideal observer”, namely, God (314-316).
Thus, Process Philosophy is a religion distinct from the others I have read about in some very important ways. The affirmation of both naturalistic (but not atheistic) science and theism is very interesting. Furthermore, Process Philosophy, according to Griffin, can be allies with the major religions of the world. He favors Christianity as walking hand-in-hand with this philosophy.
I personally don’t think this is a live option for Christian theists, however, because it involves rejection of, among other things: creation ex nihilo, omnipotence in the traditional sense, the ability of God to interfere with nature, the primacy of Christ in world religions, the life after death–which entails a rejection of the resurrection (though, as above, Griffin says this is possible)… furthermore, it means Christians must accept, among other things: the idea that Christianity is true, but only in some sense compared to to other religions, that God is only the arranger, not the creator (in the traditional sense) of the world, an entirely different ultimate reality that is similar to the impersonal, immutable Brahma as existing alongside of and coequal to God.
So what can the Christian take from RWS? That is a question that will take me some time to think about and digest. I hope the further posts in this series will help outline this more. I think there are valuable insights in what Griffin has to say, but it is more probable, in my opinion, that the Christian will find, not a “Reenchantment” so much as a chance to sharpen their philosophical blades against arguments which undermine the central tenants of the faith.
That said, RWS is a fantastic read. Griffin covers a simply massive range of topics with clarity from the perspective of Process Philosophy. The book is a page-turner. Like a fantastic novel, it exposes new ideas and forces the intellect to work in new ways. It is a work that essentially outlines the creeds of a different religion, albeit a religion which is syncretistic by nature. It touches on nearly every area of philosophy of religion, from religious language to natural theology. I highly recommend this book, if one has a good background in classical theism. The reason is because the ideas are alluring, but faulty. One can expose the faults, but only if one is grounded in truth. It’s a thought-provoking book, but I regret to find it so off the mark.
Source:
Griffin, David Ray. Reenchantment Without Supernaturalism: A Process Philosophy of Religion. Cornell University Press. 2001.
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The Life Dialogue: Theistic Evolution 4
This is part of a series of posts on the “Life Dialogue” within Christianity. Check out other posts in the series here.
I recently read a very interesting article on theistic evolution by Loren Haarsma and Terry M. Gray entitled “Complexity, Self Organization, and Design.” Interestingly, I found what I think are some of the most interesting arguments for the theistic evolutionist position, but I also found some of the hardest objections to the position (scientifically) that I have stumbled across.
I’ll start with the interesting evidence for their position. First, they note that the word “design” doesn’t belong exclusively to the Intelligent Design theorists, because theistic evolutionists argue that God designed the initial laws which gave rise to evolution and eventually humanity. In other words, God foreknew and intended for mankind to evolve, and set up the laws such that we would (or at least that some sentient beings with which God intended to interact would arise, 289).
They further argue that “With the right set of rules, a random, iterative process can start with a simple environment and self-assemble a complex environment” (293, emphasis theirs). The arguments for this position are interesting to me, and I am no scientist, but it seems to me that the three ways from which they argue for this possibility make more sense to me if there is some kind of intelligence behind the process.
The three strategies for self-organized complexity they argue are:
1) Preprogrammed self assembly– “…pieces are designed so that random interactions between them eventually lead to assembly of the desired complex object(s)”
2) Information transfer from the environment– objects incorporate information from the environment through “a process of random exploration and feedback”
3) Interaction among agents– “random interactions and feedback” lead to “increased productivity or survivability” (290)
It seems to me that 1) could be simply incorporated into laws at the beginning of the universe (but these laws would have to be designed, as the authors point out). 2) seems to me as though it simply couldn’t be totally random. For evolution to work, on the understanding I’ve gleaned from my readings, the complexity would have to aid the survivability of the entity. I think a problem here is that there is no way to determine when/why/how the random interactions suddenly latch onto those things which are helpful. If it truly is a random process, then it would randomly continue to select for characteristics, casting off old ones and making room for new ones.
Incorporating natural selection doesn’t seem like it would help much here either, because then those random selections which are negative would terminate the species. So my problems with 2) are twofold (even granting that God Designed the laws such that these interactions would occur): 1. there doesn’t seem to be an explanation for the process stopping the random selections (and therefore keeping the trait); 2. we aren’t talking about computer algorithms here, we’re talking living entities–if they select the wrong traits, they die.
Ultimately I found these arguments interesting reading, but I just don’t see how they support Theistic Evolutionism more than, say Intelligent Design. The authors do make the interesting point that it could have been the case that God set up/designed the laws such that life would arise, but the ways that complexity is integrated into the process seems to me, at least, to demand further explanation.
Source:
Haarsma, Loren and Terry M. Gray, Complexity, Self-Organization, and Design, in Perspectives on an Evolving Creation, edited Keith B. Miller, p. 288-309.
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Original Sin and the Metaphysics of the Soul
Original Sin Defined
The writers of the Augsburg Confession (found in the Book of Concord) defined Original Sin as the belief that “…since the fall of Adam all human beings who are propagated according to nature are born with sin, that is, without fear of God… [we] teach that this disease or original fault is truly sin, which even now damns and brings eternal death to those who are not born again through baptism and the Holy Spirit” (BOC, 39).
One Objection
Ezekiel 18:20a states, “The soul who sins is the one who will die. The son will not share the guilt of the father, nor will the father share the guilt of the son.”
The word used for “soul” in this passage is the Hebrew word, nephesh. This passage leads to the objection that original sin cannot be true as I have outlined it, because it involves the son inheriting the guilt of the father.
The Question of the Soul: A Metaphysic of Original Sin
Three views of the soul are prevalent in Christianity. All of them presuppose metaphysical dualism. They are:
1) Our soul is constructed just as our physical body: Our soul is a half-and-half combination of the souls of our mother and father.
2) God specially creates each soul for each person when he/she is conceived/born/etc. Alternatively, God has already created every soul for everyone who will ever live, and puts them in a body when one is needed. The main problem with this view is that it would seem that if original sin is true (in the sense I have outlined it above), then God creates sinful souls for us.
3) Our soul is from Adam. There are no new souls for mankind, rather, we all share, in some sense, Adam’s soul.
I tend to favor 1) (now, anyway). But I favor a version of 1) which is not so much a half-and-half combination of souls, but a union of the totality of the souls we inherit. I originally wrote this post for my new site, but an insightful commentator lead me to heavily edit my views here. Just as we become one in the union of sex, so do our souls become one when we conceive a child.
What this means, then, is that the soul we inherit from our ancestors includes the inheritance of the guilt of sin. I must note the distinction here between sins which require action and those that do not. I have been pondering this idea for some time–is it possible to have sins for which we are guilty that we don’t commit? The answer I lean toward is “No”, but that doesn’t preclude original sin. The reason is that through the soul, we have literally participated in the original sin of Adam. When we are told that we have the “Old Adam” in us, this should be taken in a more literal sense than it often is.
We are told by Paul that there is a natural and spiritual body (1 Corinthians 15:44). These are both the inheritance of our ancestors. In a literal sense, then, there is the “old self” (Romans 6:6) and the Old Adam (1 Corinthians 15:45) which, from birth, enslave us to sin (Romans 6:6). Metaphysically I think this means that our soul has literally participated in, and is therefore held accountable for, the original sin. Original sin is a substantive entity–it corrupts our very nature. This is no mere inclination to sin, but a bondage to sin and a separation from God. It only makes sense to me on a metaphysical level to argue that this sin is inherited through our soul, which, like our body, maintains the union with Adam himself.
So how does this answer the objection from Ezekiel 18:20? Initially, one may argue it seems to purge the passage of all meaning. This is not the case, however. What Ezekiel is referring to is the sin of commission. That is, it refers to a sin which requires an action. Ezekiel is telling us that the actions of the father do not condemn the actions of the son. This does not, however, preclude the original sin in the metaphysical sense in which I have outlined it, because we have each participated in the action which causes original sin.
One final note is required, however. This is again a modification of my original thoughts due to enlightening discussion with my good friend’s comments. We must remember that this stain of sin, this original sin, has passed away for those who have faith in Christ. For, though the passages I quoted above discuss the nature of our original guilt, they immediately turn to salvation which is through Christ. Our New Adam replaces the Old (1 Corinthians 14:42-57), and our enslavement to sin is no more (Romans 6:6-14). Our original guilt, received through our sharing in the action of Adam, and our shared spirit with him, is no more.
Source:
The Book of Concord. Augsburg Fortress. 2000.
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New Page: Christian Diversity
I have started another blog, which will not interfere with this one (though there may be some overlap). It is called Christian Diversity. Here’s the mission statement:
Christianity has been separated into divisions over denominational, cultural, and theological lines, yet the message of Christianity remains the same for all generations: Christ crucified for our sins. We at ‘Christian Diversity’ seek to demonstrate that while Christianity may be divided institutionally, we are of one mind spiritually. We affirm ‘Mere Christianity’, which is the belief that Christianity is ultimately this faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. We affirm the Three Ecumenical Creeds (The Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds).
The goal of ‘Christian Diversity’ is to discuss doctrinal differences on matters not essential to the faith. We understand that the goal of total ecumenism–that is, the unity of all churches–may be out of reach, but we strive to come to the understanding that all Christians are saved, and there are no divisions among us when it comes to Christ. Thus, while we may disagree on many of the issues we discuss, we continue to strive towards a better understanding of our fellow Christians and increase unity with them. This will serve to strengthen us as brothers and sisters in Christ.
Our motto comes from St. Paul, who writes in 1 Corinthians 1:10 I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought.
Check it out! Let me know your thoughts!
Passional Reason and the Heart
Our heart is involved with our beliefs, from our desire for chocolate ice cream to the truth claims of our religion. I’ve written before about the role our will can play in belief. Now I want to turn to a thesis which is highly contentious, namely, that the evidence for Christianity is conclusive, but that this evidence can only be fully ascertained within the framework of a believing heart.
William Wainwright writes about a similar thesis:
“…the thesis that mature religious belief can, and perhaps should, be based on evidence but that the evidence can be accurately assessed only by men and women who possess the proper moral and spiritual qualifications… reason is capable of knowing God on the basis of evidence–but only when one’s cognitive faculties are rightly disposed… [Christianity] places a high value on proofs, arguments, and inferences yet also believes that a properly disposed heart is needed to see their force” (Wainwright, 3).
If my thesis is accurate, however, then this means that only the believer can fully understand the truths of Scripture, the soundness of the incarnation, and the blessedness of the Trinity. Regarding the truths of Scripture, Wainwright comments that:
“The strongest evidence for scripture’s divine authority is its spiritual beauty–a feature that natural reason cannot detect. Only those with converted hearts can perceive, taste, and relish the stamp of divine splendor on scripture and thus be certain of its teachings” (17).
Why should I claim such things? Why think that only a believer can detect the truths of Christianity, when some of these very truths are made to be detected by “natural reason” (i.e. arguments for the existence of God)?
The answer is fairly simple: such evidence is inherently life-changing. This should not be such a surprise, but it seems as though it is a point too often ignored in philosophy of religion. A little reflection should reveal this to be the truth, however. If one grasps fully the truth of, say, the Kalam Cosmological Argument, then one comes to the conclusion that there is a transcendent cause to the universe. Is it even possible for such a conclusion not to be life-changing? Should not the reaction be an utter commitment to discovering what this cause is? But then, in light of other sound arguments (ontological, moral, etc.) the conclusion is even more startling: theism is true. It is impossible for such a conclusion to be accepted with the sterility of mere philosophical assent. Such a conclusion forces a new worldview, a new moral outlook, and a new heart.
Furthermore, it seems to me obvious that if the God of Classical Theism exists, then such a God would, in sovereignty, demand such life-changes upon the discovery of His existence. As Paul Moser puts it, “…God would offer the kind of evidence and knowledge that represents and advances God’s kind of unselfish love among humans” (Moser, 14).
So what does this mean for the believer, for the unbeliever? For the believer, it means he or she should not abstain from offering evidence. Such evidence, after all, has historically been considered rational basis for Christian belief. But the believer should not expect the nonbeliever to come to faith in Christ based on an argument. Such arguments are barrier-breaking, but not life-saving.
For the nonbeliever, it means that he or she cannot come into faith on his or her own… it is a matter of coming to God with “Fear and Trembling,” knowing that “faith is the highest passion in man” (Kierkegaard, 90). This faith requires the nonbeliever to abandon the self-restraints which he or she has placed on the heart. It requires standing on the precipice of faith and realizing that one cannot come to God on one’s own, but that God brings all to Himself. It requires an abandonment of the radical skepticism, the unrepentant lifestyle, the willful setting aside of the evidence, and a realization that God is in control. It is the existential moment of fear and trembling, of triumph and despair, about which Kierkegaard writes so eloquently. And in this existential moment, it is God Himself who calls, who folds the nonbeliever into unending love.
When it comes to the matter of God’s existence, the problem is not with the evidence, it is with the heart.
Sources:
Moser, Paul. The Evidence for God. Cambridge University Press. 2010.
Kierkegaard, Soren. Fear and Trembling. A & D Publishing. 2008.
Wainwright, William. Reason and the Heart: A Prolegomenon to a Critique of Passional Reason. Cornell University Press. 1995.
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Devotion for a Philosopher/Apologist: Job and Natural Theology
One thing I’ve noted throughout my involvement in apologetics and philosophy is a constant need and desire for good devotions. I’ve written some guidelines for how to go about a devotional life here, but I’ve noticed that many readers are coming to my site looking for actual devotions themselves. Thus, I’ve decided to start this series of devotions for the Christian Philosopher or Apologist.
Job and Natural Theology
Recommended reading: The book of Job, a chapter or book on natural theology
Often, I find myself struggling, as I am so enmeshed in abstract concepts of God and philosophy, to maintain that personal connection with my Lord. Nowhere do I find a better place to reignite this personal connection than the book of Job. It appeals to me on a number of levels–it has verses which demonstrate the greatness of faith, the horrors of evil, and the greatness and existence of God.
As Christian philosophers/apologists, we can smile and nod along with such passages as Job 12:7-10″
“But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind.”
We can note how often we echo these very words, pointing to such things as the teleological argument or arguments from design. Scripture preaches what we teach! We are told here that creation itself witnesses the Creator! But these aren’t the only verses in Job which help affirm the tasks to which we have set ourselves, for we are told in Job about the attributes of God (He is unchangeable 23:13, almighty chapters 25-26, majestic 37:1ff, omnibenevolent 34:10 [though note that we must be careful to assertain doctrinal truths from Job’s friends, who are often mistaken about the works of God], and sovereign 1:21) we are informed that religious experience can convey knowledge (4:12, but again note that this is a friend of Job’s, so be careful with interpretation), and we discover that there will be a physical resurrection (19:25).
Already, we have experienced many of the parts of Job which speak directly to us as apologists and philosophers. But there is so much more here! We are to focus upon faith. As I said before, I often lose sight of my personal relationship with God in the midst of the abstract arguments, but Job (the book) calls us towards such a strong relationship with God.
Job 5:8-27 can give us great comfort. It is God to whom we commit our cause (5:8). God does great and unsearchable things, providing for our every need (5:9-16). Furthermore, we are comforted in times of trouble. God may allow us to be wounded, but he binds us, we may be shattered, but God heals us (5:18).
Finally, within Job we have a stirring account from God. Another struggle I can find myself involved in is an inflated view of my knowledge. Job struggled with this same issue, as he complained to God about his sufferings. God’s response is not to explain suffering, but to reassert His greatness and unlimited knowledge (see the dialogue in chapters 38 and following). We are then shown what our proper response is to God’s great majesty, Job 42:1-6:
Then Job answered the LORD and said: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge? ‘Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ‘Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you make it known to me.’ I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
Job understands how our lives should reflect our commitment to God. We too often utter what we do not understand, when we encounter God, we realize that compared to His great glory, we can only repent of inability to always be perfect ambassadors of Christ. Yet, along with Job, we know that our redeemer lives (Job 19:25). What a great blessing it is to know that we will walk with him, in the flesh, upon the earth!
God’s grace and peace to you, my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus. I hope this devotion will be helpful in your studies. I’d appreciate any feedback you can give me to help improve any future devotions I may share.
The image in this post was a (very unprofessional) photograph by me of the Lutheran Study Bible and the Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology
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Book Review: Horrendous Evils and the Goodness of God
The problem of evil is often seen as the greatest threat to theistic belief. Analytic Philosophers have struggled with the issue on both sides of theism–from Plantinga’s innovative “Free Will Defense” to the claim of the positive irrationality of theism issued by the late J.L. Mackie. This issue doesn’t show signs of slowing down, either. It has dominated philosophy of religion for millenia.
In Horrendous Evils and the Goodness of God
Adams’ account has the kind of honest, penetrating discussion of real evil in our world about which philosophy would do well to take notice. The little child kidnapped and murdered; the innocent family killed by the drunk driver; the millions murdered by Hitler; these examples all demand answers for the individual occurrences of evil, according to Adams (see her discussion on pages 17ff). Specifically, she writes that “At a minimum, God’s goodness to human individuals would require that God guarantee each a life that was a great good to him/her on the whole… God would have to… [give each person’s life value]… by giving it positive meaning through… great enough good within the context of his/her life” (31, emphasis hers). This stunning claim will likely make the theistic philosopher rock back on his/her heels for a moment. Surely, we cannot be called to account for every individual evil!
Adams believes that the Christian theist can indeed do so, not by taking the unconvincing (in my opinion) route of arguing that such persons are having their character built by suffering, but by appealing to God’s goodness to each individual person (55). Specifically, this goodness of God is demonstrated within Christianity by Jesus Christ. After a penetrating discussion of purity and defilement on Christianity and Judaism (see 86ff), Adams argues that in Christ, God “takes the… approach of joining us in our defilement [that is, our suffering of horrendous, individual evils]” (98). This act of Christ means that our defilement from sin, evils, and even horrendous evils has the possibility of becoming holiness (99). Thus, through Christ, and the power of the Holy Spirit’s redefining rebirth of baptism, God offers the greatest good to every individual (102).
Through this self-defilement which leads to holiness, God invests meaning by “…being good to all created persons–that is, in seeing to it that each gets a life that is a great good to him/her on the whole, one in which any participation in horrors is not merely balanced off but defeated” (126, emphasis hers). Adams’ thesis, then, is that in Christ, God provides the defeater for horrendous evils by ensuring that each person’s life is a great good. Here Adams rides a fine line of universalism (it seems as though she may be saying every person is indeed saved through Christ, eventually), but her account can be easily modified by those who reject universalism–for one can argue that God provides the defeater simply by offering the possibility of such goods to each person. And God is good to each person by providing such an opportunity.
Adams uses the rest of her work to argue further how God’s participation in suffering demonstrates that God has been immeasurably good to each individual.
I find Adams’ argument particularly enlightening. Her emphasis on the individual evils of the world is a breath of fresh air as well as a new challenge to Christian philosophers. We do need to address individual atrocities. This doesn’t mean we need to go through, case-by-case, and provide theodicies for each event. Rather, as Adams urges, we can address this by arguing that God is good to every individual through his redemptive act by Jesus Christ.
My main critique of Adams in this work is that while I find her issues with abstracting the problem of evil to hit the mark some of the time, I think she underestimates the value of some of the analytic responses to the problem of evil. Certainly, taking evil as a sum total and arguing that God could have some reason for permitting this much evil to occur downplays the importance pf the evil actions towards individuals , but there is a place for such defenses within philosophy. Rather than jettisoning these types of answers, then, I think we would be best suited adding Adams’ defense to the many-faceted response to the problem of evil from Christian philosophers of religion.
Source:
Adams, Marilyn McCord. Horrendous Evils and the Goodness of God
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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.
Problems With Evolutionary Morality
Recently, i discussed the problems atheism has with establishing a base for moral discussions (see here). Now it is time to delve into the problems with one of the most commonly used ethical theories of non-theists–evolutionary morality (or, to use a phrase coined by Koukl, “monkey morality”).
Evolutionary Morality generally argues that our moral beliefs arose by some kind of naturally-selected process. Notably, ethical judgments which benefited the survival of the species tended to be favored (thus, murder was frowned upon), while those judgments which prevented the spread of one’s genes tended to be disfavored (hence the reason rape is not permitted, for now it makes one stigmatized socially, thus leading to difficulties propagating genes).
Without much further ado, I find numerous problems with this ethical theory. Here, I shall present only a few.
1) How can we get an “ought” from matter in motion? Ultimately, evolutionary moralists assert that all there is in the universe is the physical realm. As such, a “person” is reducible to matter in motion. But then how exactly is it that there can be a moral “ought” if everything is matter in motion. Evolutionary morality reduces ethical decisions to the point of being mere wishes at best. There is no “ought” or “should” in evolutionary morality, for there cannot be. Ought’s can only be issued from sources to which one has obligations. It is hard to see how a person owes obligation to one’s species or matter.
2) Evolutionary Morality assumes that what is best for a being is the survival of the species. How is it that we can say what is best for an individual being is to insure survival of the species? What is it that makes it “good” or “right” to propagate genes? Furthermore, what if an individual does not wish to help insure survival of his/her species. Suppose there is a species of sentient beings, the Plargons, who are in all ways horrible. They travel the galaxies, taking over lush worlds, burning them to the ground and using every available resource until it is depleted, and then move to the next planet. Suppose now that Judy, a Plargon woman, decides it would be better for her species to be eradicated from the galaxy, for they are without capacity for reform. She therefore manages to destroy all other Plargons, and then retires to a corner of the galaxy alone until she dies, exterminating the Plargon race. Would this be a good or bad thing? Such a hard question should take much consideration from any thinking person, but evolutionary morality circumvents the hard question and simply delcares that Judy has done the greatest evil imaginable, for she has gone against the survival of her own species.
3) Evolutionary Morality assumes that all beings “should” desire the continuity of the species, yet this assumes a higher morality. Again, what makes it “good” or “right” to do things for the survival of our species. Humanism suffers from this glaring problem. It’s all well and good to say that what is good for humanity is what we should strive for. But whence does this “should” come?
4) Evolutionary Morality destroys altruism. Altruism, on evolutionary morality, is generally stupid. For to sacrifice oneself to save another (or several others) is to destroy one’s own place in the gene pool, thus eradicating one’s very reason for existence. Yet it seems intuitively as though altruism is a great good. Evolutionary morality therefore goes against our common sense notions of morality.
5) Evolutionary Morality is arbitrary. That which is good for the species may change over time. Recall the case of rape. I have heard it said that at one time rape was considered “okay” or “good” because it was one way to ensure the survival of the human race. Now, however, due to societal constraints, rape is “bad” or at least “stigmatized” and therefore is viewed negatively. But it seems intuitively that rape is a great horror, no matter what the circumstances! This is another case of Evolutionary Morality violating our moral senses. Furthermore, suppose the nuclear apocalypse happens, leaving only a few hundred humans alive. Evolutionary Morality could allow for rape to once more be a great good, for after all, we would need to repopulate the earth! Why should the feelings of some women or men get in the way of the survival of the species!? Again, the bankruptcy of Evolutionary Morality shines through.
It seems to me that the problems with moral systems which do not include God are endless. Without a lawgiver, anything can be right. Without a lawgiver, there are no “oughts”. Morality therefore dies.
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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.
Religious Diversity: What’s the Problem?
Religious diversity is one of the greatest challenges found by people of any faith in our pluralistic society. There are so many things to consider about this subject that there is no way to adequately cover it in one post.
First we must ask ‘what exactly is the problem of religious diversity?’ Is there really any logical problem to their being more than one religion in existence? I think the answer to this objection, if it is any objection at all, is simply to answer that, as in other areas of life, the fact that there is a broad array of beliefs about a subject does not mean that all are false or that the subject is unknowable.
Is the problem, then, instead specific to religions which claim exclusivism? Is it true that all religions have truth in some way, and that those which claim to have the truth are fundamentally flawed in some way? This, again, doesn’t seem to follow from anything. The fact that there is a plurality of opinions over the Divine (or whether there is a Divine-thing-being) alone does not justify the assertion that all religions are somehow about the same thing or that none are true. Nor does it imply that religions which claim to have the only way are incorrect. Again, there doesn’t seem to be any kind of structured argument here.
Often, this problem is focused around a specific religion; namely, Christianity. The problem is posed in the following way: If [traditional] Christianity is true, then Jesus is the only way of salvation. What then, of those “good people” who are not Christians? What of the faithful Buddhist, Hindu, or Zoroastrian? Would the loving God of Christianity condemn these to hell?
This is the problem posed in its most powerful form, in my opinion. Religious diversity doesn’t itself function as a defeater for theistic belief. Instead, it can pose a problem to exclusivist Christian belief. This is the problem upon which my next posts will focus. Broadly, I will address the other attempted defeaters above throughout my posts on religious diversity, but it is the exclusivist Christian position around which I will focus. This is the position to which the problem of religious diversity poses the greatest problem (note that any religion which features exclusivism will also face this problem).
Let me briefly offer the outline of what will be my expanded response:
1) Jesus is indeed the only way to salvation (John 14:6)
2) Jesus’ death and resurrection provided the possibility of salvation to all people, on the condition of faith (Romasn 3:21ff)
3) People are judged by the knowledge they have (Romans 2:12ff)-This is the key point. The distinction between ontological (availability of) and epistemological (knowledge of the means of) salvation must be drawn.
4) The salvation provided by Christ is ontologically necessary. The key issue is of its epistemic necessity.
J.W. Wartick - Reconstructing Faith 
