Christianity
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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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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Jesus: A Fact of History
This post is part of a series, “Jesus: The Living God.” See other posts in the series here.
The belief that Jesus existed is, quite simply, historical fact. The historical figure of Jesus is beyond denial. Jesus walked on this planet. There are those who actually deny this fact. They say things about our knowledge of Jesus being derived only from “hearsay” accounts, or that the other historical sources outside the Gospels aren’t reliable because they were written after Jesus died.
What people who try to deny Jesus as a historical fact don’t realize is that we have more evidence for the historicity of Jesus than we do for historical figures such as Alexander the Great. Our sources on Alexander the Great date from sources written utilizing biographical accounts about him. This is hearsay, if that is how those who want to attack the historicity of Jesus want to define such historical accounts. The sources we do have date at least 200 years after Alexander’s death (derived from Green, Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic Age, pp. xxii–xxviii). But according to the “historical standards” set by those who wish to deny that Jesus ever existed, we absolutely must accept that Alexander the Great existed either!
We know of Alexander the Great only through accounts written hundreds of years after his death (scholars date the Gospels to about 70AD–40 years after the death of Jesus [see Blomberg, Craig, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels)! Sure, there are many reasons to think Alexander existed, such as the shape of western civilization, various corroborating evidence, etc… but we have reasons like that to believe Jesus existed too!
The reality is that no serious scholar denies the historicity of Jesus, due not only to the Gospel accounts, but also Josephus, Tacitus, etc. Those who wish to discredit the accounts of the Gospel, Josephus, etc. should realize they should be consistent in their “historiography” and discredit the accounts written about Alexander the Great, not to mention other figures like Attila the Hun, Confucius, etc.! If this is the kind of historical relativism and denial we are forced to embrace due to the denial of the historical Jesus, then almost all ancient history is thrown into question.
The fact of the matter is that the reason people try to deny the historicity of Jesus isn’t due to historical reasons, it’s either due to ignorance about how historiography operates or simply willingness to blatantly deny historical fact.
Recommended reading
Wright, N.T. The Challenge of Jesus, The New Testament and the People of God, Jesus and the Victory of God, and The Resurrection of the Son of God
Blomberg, Craig The Historical Reliability of the Gospels
Strobel, Lee The Case for the Real Jesus and The Case for Christ
Komoszewski, Sawyer, and Wallace Reinventing Jesus
Note that even accounts critical of Jesus do not deny his historicity, cf Crossan, John Historical Jesus or Borg, Marcus Jesus
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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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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 Life Dialogue: Christian Presuppositions and Science
This is part of a series of posts on the debate within Christianity about how life diversified on earth (i.e. evolution, creationism, ID, or something else). See other posts in the series here.
I’ve been reading a whole lot of material on this debate for this series of posts. I’ve been reading from all sides of the debate. As such, I’m often presented with completely conflicting views of interpretation of the same data or conflicting views about overall methodological approaches.
Thus, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how it is the Christian should interact with this whole debate. It dawned on me as I was eating dinner today (and reading through a creationist magazine–I like to multitask) that most of the driving force behind this whole debate may simply be with the methodology. There seem to be two major groups within the Christian community who are arguing on this issue. One group asserts that Christians absolutely must keep up with science, and that this means jumping on board with the entire methodological approach inherent in contemporary science. The other group asserts that Christians should indeed keep up with science, but should do so while acknowledging that God is going to be intricately connected at all stages.
This is perhaps the absolute center of the entire debate. What presuppositions do Christians have when entering the “life dialogue” (as I’ve called it)? I tied this almost immediately with Paul K. Moser’s idea in The Elusive God that philosophy should be done differently by Christians, who assume God exists, and therefore focus philosophy around God. Should not science also be done differently by Christians?
What I mean to say is that basic to the Christianity is the idea that God not only created the universe and all things visible and invisible, but He also loves and interacts with that same creation. For Christians interacting with science, I think this must mean that Christians should enter any kind of scientific inquiry acknowledging that there are points not just historically (as in the case of Jesus or any number of Biblical events) but also biologically, astronomically, etc. (see Psalm 19:1-6 for reasons to think this). This doesn’t support a “God of the Gaps” proposition, in which God is thrown in anywhere that science can’t describe, but it does support a God who interacts with the universe.
The problem is that mainstream science does not share such propositions. Unfortunately, despite Christian origins of science (see here), science today seems to take naturalism as absolutely true. Thus, it is simply not a fair field of play for Christians. I see this happening often in theistic evolution. It seems to me that many some Christians seem to think that we can never assert that God did something (other than the things recorded in the Bible) in physical history. But I don’t see any reason why Christians should be encouraged to embrace wholly the naturalistic presuppositions of contemporary science. Christians, I think, should instead try to use their own paradigms to interpret scientific data. If God is seen as creator and sustainer of the universe, what does that mean for biology, astronomy, physics, or other fields of scientific inquiry? I don’t think Christians should have to operate under a naturalistic worldview in order to explore science.
Christians should make use of science. I would never argue otherwise. My point is that Christians shouldn’t be Christians in one realm (outside of science), but atheists in another realm (within science).
So what does this mean for the “life dialogue”? I tend to think that any view of the diversity of life that attempts to completely cut God out of the equation is ultimately deistic or atheistic, not theistic/Christian. Questions for Christians in this debate could be “What does this mean to our relationship with God?” or “What was God doing during this time span?” If the answer to either question is “nothing”, then it really doesn’t mean that much to the Christian. I believe that all truth will have relevance to our relationship with God. God is never inactive. He doesn’t passively sit back and “let it happen.” This can be seen in Scripture (see Psalm 104 for a particularly wonderful account of God’s interaction with the world).
Thus, as I continue in this “Life Dialogue”, I’ll be analyzing positions based on these presuppositional questions as well: What do these accounts of the diversity of life teach us about God and what do they mean to us?
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Jesus: The Living God
The life of Jesus is the single most important event in human history. If Christianity is true, then salvation is available to all who believe in Him. If not, then billions of people have been deceived for millennia. This is part of a series of posts on Jesus, the Living God. I’ll be exploring apologetic, theological, and Biblical works that discuss Jesus.
This post serves as a place to collect links to this series.
The Morality of God: Christ at the Center.
Jesus and the Stable: A Theory.
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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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 Life Dialogue: Theistic Evolution 2
This is part of a series of posts on the means by which life came about within Christianity. See other posts on the topic here.
Last time I wrote about theistic evolution I mentioned I was quite excited to get into some the scientific side of the debate. I delved into that a bit with my first post on old earth creationism as well as in my post on young earth creationism. While I think that perhaps the biggest problem with theistic evolution from a Christian view is theological, I do believe it is important to examine the scientific aspect of all sides of the debate as well. Thus, I turned to Perspectives on an Evolving Creation, a work full of essays on theistic evolution, to give me the scientific aspects of theistic evolution.
Common descent is central to the notion of atheism. Often, common descent is the source of objections to the theory of evolution (Miller, 152). Common descent is the assertion that all life on earth is descended from an “unbroken series of ancestor-descendant relationships to a single ancestral life form” (Miller, 152). Perhaps the most frequent objection to this is the sparse distribution of the fossil record.
Miller argues that the fossil record, rather than being incapable of demonstrating common descent, provides “persuasive evidence for macroevolutionary change and common descent” (153). He quickly qualifies this statement, pointing out that most often people either assert that the fossil record is so sparse that nothing can be demonstrated by it or that it is so complete that all details can be brought to light.
Miller then points out the vast problems with trying to fill in a fossil record which, according to evolutionary theory, covers hundreds of millions of years. Some of these problems include the infrequent fossilization of soft bodied or thin-shelled organisms, environmental factors such as weather, scavengers, or water levels, erosion, irregular sedimentation, etc. (154-156).
Transitional forms also encounter the problems of classification. The way species are categorized can directly affect whether a species is seen as a transitional form. “The grouping of organisms in a classification scheme does more than describe nature: it also interprets it” (158). Miller goes on to discuss two types of classification: the Linnean and cladistic classification. Linnean classification views species as types. One individual is seen as the ideal “archetype” of the species, while all others are compared to this “archetype” and then seen as types or offshoots of this individual. This, argues Miller, “exclude[s] transition[al fossils] by definition” (158, emphasis his). Cladistic classification, by contrast, assumes an evolutionary scheme and places animals into overarching schemes based on such assumptions. Thus, species may not be grouped so much by common characteristics as they are grouped by characteristics seen as having a common ancestor (159).
Interestingly, this section seems to echo one of the statements I remember from a talk on Young Earth Creation I listened to on campus, in which the speaker stated that often scientists can look at the same evidence and come up with completely different interpretations–even though the evidence is the same. I’ll be keeping this in mind in my future interactions with the varied positions in this dialogue. Here, it seems the cladistic classification is preferred, though one may ask whether this is because one wants to presuppose evolution and move from there, or if it is because the fossil record points more readily towards evolution. Did the evidence lead to the classification or did the classification lead to the evidence?
Transitional forms often are attached to misconceptions. Miller warns against assuming that such a form would appear as a logical step from one type of animal to the next. Rather, he states that “Such forms will be unlike anything living today”. This is because “transitional forms are found by moving down the tree of life into the past, not trying to jump from limb to limb” (161). Thus, when thinking of transitional forms, rather than seeing a kind of orthogenesis (one step at a time) that would suggest, perhaps, species 1 => species 2 => species 3, the view should be a branching phylogeny which looks more like a tree than a straight line. Thus, transitional fossils could be radically different from the species to which they gave rise (163).
After this point in his chapter, Miller goes into some examples of just these types of transitions viewed in the fossil record. His examples include reptile-to-mammal evolution, a land creature-to-whale evolution, horses, tapers, rhinos, etc. having a common ancestor, and others (164-180). Due to such transitional evidence in the fossil record, Miller concludes that “transitional fossil sequences between higher taxonomic groups are a common feature of the fossil record” (180).
One may question Miller on a number of points in this chapter. The different classification systems is one presupposition that must be made. Another objection that came to my mind as I was reading was the definition of transitional fossil. Again, it seems as though the definition may be changed to fit the theory, rather than the theory changed to fit the definition or the evidence. Why couldn’t it be that transitional fossils are just what intuition suggests, and there really aren’t too many? Rather, the assumption seems to be that other fossils may be used for the transitions. Why make such an assumption? Is there any reason to push the transitional definition to the usage Miller is endorsing? I don’t know.
I enjoyed Miller’s chapter greatly. It is always nice to get a breath of fresh air amidst my readings of analytic philosophy or epistemology. I have enjoyed this series greatly, and I can’t wait to continue.
Finally, in closing, I would like to note two things again. The first is my stance on this whole debate: I believe the Bible is the inerrant Word of God, I believe that God did and does directly intervene in creation and the universe, and I believe that God has been and always will be the creator and sustainer of the universe. Thus, I am biased, just as anyone who approaches such questions is. Second, I have noted before that this series is meant to be for the in-house Christian debate on these matters. I’ve had a number of caustic comments thrown my way from those uninterested in such a debate. I welcome non-Christians to the discussion, but only if they can participate in a civil manner.
Miller, Keith. “Common Descent, Transitional Forms, and the Fossil Record.” Edited Keith Miller. Perspectives on an Evolving Creation. Wm. B.Eerdman’s. 2003.
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J.W. Wartick - Reconstructing Faith 