Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Christian Apologetics

  • Dr. James White Declares me (among others) Evil

    No, he presumably doesn’t know who I am, and didn’t mention me by name. But I voted for Barack Obama on Tuesday, and I also voted against Florida’s amendment banning gay marriage. I am a Christian, a Bible teacher who normally spends hours daily studying the scriptures.

    I found this video by Dr. James White via Tim Ricchuiti. While I have always appreciated Dr. White’s defense of modern Bible translations in King James Only Controversy, The: Can You Trust the Modern Translations?, I have also been well aware that we differ on many things. The most important of these things are contained in this video.

    Tim has already made some very good points, though I would quibble on the matter of defining Christianity. An apologist, which is Dr. White’s vocation, must define Christianity in some way, else just what will he defend? You cannot defend that which is not defined.

    The fundamental difference then is one of definition. I define “Christian” differently than does Dr. White. This is no surprise. The important thing is that it simply makes his accusation that certain people aren’t Christians, or that they are vile heretics of no importance whatsoever, unless one is trying to do some ministry in conjunction with Dr. White’s ministry or to work together with him.

    The important thing is just how well he supports that definition. One of the critical errors (not doctrinal, but logical) in the video is the claim that words have some meaning given to them by a transcendent God. Sorry, but no. Not so. Words gain their meaning from usage, as someone who has commented at such length on translation should know from experience.

    In this case, since Dr. White doesn’t define Christian precisely in his video–OK, it’s only 18 minutes so what do I expect?–we must take the definition implied from his usage. In that case, we must assume that a real Christian:

    1. Does not base theology on race
    2. Opposes same sex marriage even in the civil sphere
    3. Not only is against abortion, but must believe that the law is the best way to put a stop to it.
    4. Believes that people who disagree on these points are evil.

    I would say that I’m on the weakest ground on the fourth point, though it seems to me that he is making that part of the implied definition. The reason for this is that he challenges the Christian faith of people who disagree on any of those points. Again, I don’t challenge his right to have a definition of Christianity–I challenge the usefulness of this definition.

    It’s interesting that besides defining people who don’t agree on these points as non-Christian, he also declares them evil, evil which must be confronted. Having just been studying Romans 1, and especially verse 32, I’m guessing those who don’t confront these things as evil are also to be regarded as evil.

    How would I define Christianity? First, in conversation, I simply accept one’s self definition. If you say you’re a Christian, I’m going to go with it for purposes of discussion. That’s just a convenience. I don’t regard the label “Christian” as all that important. Go ahead and define it how you like. The issue is whether you are a follower of Jesus or not, and while I will list characteristics and discuss discipleship, the ultimate judge of that will be Jesus.

    But if I go a step further and use the term “orthodox Christianity” or perhaps the basis on which I would call myself a Christian it is this: I say the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed without my fingers crossed. So if someone believes in the incarnation, in the doctrine of the trinity, in the resurrection, and the final judgment of God, that sounds very Christian to me. Please note again that I’m not trying to tell you who gets to use a label. I’m simply saying how I use the label of myself. Were I to begin to need crossed fingers in reciting those creeds, I would cease calling myself Christian.

    If I share my Christian faith with others, those are the elements I’m likely to tell them about, and those are thing things I will tell them define me as a Christian.

    Thus the following statement from the TUCC web site means that I accept TUCC as Christian:

    The United Church of Christ acknowledges as its sole Head, Jesus Christ, Son of God and Savior. It acknowledges as kindred in Christ all who share in this confession. It looks to the Word of God in the Scriptures, and to the presence and power of the Holy Spirit, to prosper its creative and redemptive work in the world. It claims as its own the faith of the historic Church expressed in the ancient creeds and reclaimed in the basic insights of the Protestant Reformers. It affirms the responsibility of the Church in each generation to make this faith its own in reality of worship, in honesty of thought and expression, and in purity of heart before God. In accordance with the teaching of our Lord and the practice prevailing among evangelical Christians, it recognizes two sacraments: Baptism and the Lord’s Supper or Holy Communion.

    Now let me note a few points of disagreement other than the obvious ones with Dr. White’s video. He refers to it possibly not being God’s will that someone be brought to repentance. Of course this is a major Calvinist-Arminian divide, and I fall to the Arminian side. He criticizes the emerging church in terms that I would find quite unacceptable.

    Further, he takes the stance that a belief in evolution is at the foundation of all this evil, misunderstanding evolution as necessarily atheistic and as stealing the dignity of humanity. I’m guessing this is another part of his definition of “Christian” but I’ll leave that out for now. The creation-evolution controversy can be found in many inappropriate places, and is rarely discussed with comprehension.

    I agree with him that Christians need to soak in the word, immerse themselves in the word. I would suggest, however, that Christians may soak themselves in parts of the word that are either not applicable or that are placed in the wrong priority. I have a prioritizing suggestion, and it comes from Jesus: Love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. All the law and the prophets hang on these two (Matthew 22:35-40).

    That will at least get your priorities straight.

  • Evolution, Historical Methods, and Assumptions

    Andrew Lamb has commented on a post I wrote back in July. I have responded to most of the comment there, but he references an article of his own, Immeasurable Age, and it employs an approach that, while I do not think it has merit, is so common in both public discourse and apologetics, that I want to respond.

    In the comment he states:

    Contrary to your assertion Henry, age is dependent upon assumptions, i.e. age is not something that can be measured. See the article Immeasurable age.

    It’s interesting to note here that Mr. Lamb introduced the term “measured” and then uses a mildly eccentric definition of the term. Apparently if any form of inference is involved, one is not measuring. But we use various types of inference in a number of measurements. For example, inference is involved in measuring radio frequencies. One observes the effect and from there infers the frequency.

    Now you should rightly point out that my example of inference is substantially different than the types of inference involved in determining the age of the earth. (Note again that I did not use the term “measure.”) That is why I called his use only mildly eccentric. There is no device, such as a time ruler that I can put up against the time line of earth’s history and read off the actual age. That is the nature of historical study, whether human history or historical science. (At the end of this post I will provide links to a couple of online sources on the age of the earth. I’m not planning on discussing the actual science, but rather the general approach.)

    I would prefer better definition of terms like “assumptions” (which Mr. Lamb uses) or “presuppositions” (which is seen frequently elsewhere). In this case Mr. Lamb is using “assumption” in a manner that borrows some of the baggage of “presupposition” without actually going there. (A presupposition is something one must suppose or assume to be true to make sense of a worldview, i.e. it is unquestionable within that worldview. An assumption can be something that one takes temporarily to be true, but which one intends later to test–or not, as the case may be.)

    Thus I would immediately disagree with the definition Mr. Lamb provides in his article:

    All three methods involve making assumptions. Assumptions are things we believe, but which cannot be proven.

    That definition is closer to the definition of a presupposition. Now note that I’m not much of a fan of the term “presupposition” either, but I’m much happier with it when it is either carefully defined by an author, or used in a standard defined sense. I have found so many senses of the term, however, that I think each author would do well to state how he understands the term whenever it is used.

    A more serious problem, however, is the way that this idea is used in the article. We are told that because the age of the earth cannot be measured, but is rather based on assumptions, pretty much anything goes. Lamb gives a number of ideas of measuring age based on clearly false and ridiculous assumptions, such as checking your current rate of growth and extrapolating, thus implying without saying so that scientific assumptions (if such they are) are also perversely stupid. One could summarize this as “It’s all based on assumptions (probably bad ones), so why not ours?”

    To quote:

    When it comes to the age of the world, we can use historical methods (method 1 above), which involve assuming or trusting particular records to be accurate. This is the way we at CMI calculate the age of the earth. We trust the Bible to be a supremely reliable record of world history, and from the information in the Bible we can calculate that the world is about 6,000 years old.

    So we are to believe that the assumption that the records in the Bible are accurate, and the assumption that rates of radioactive decay have remained essentially unchanged, are to be placed on the same level. Then if one is a Christian, of course one should accept whatever the Bible says over equally speculative scientific options.

    I hope you note the way I worded that. I believe a number of my more conservative friends would be uncomfortable with the idea that the accuracy of Biblical records was simply one assumption among many, so hey, why not accept it.

    But the assumptions involved are not even close to the same level. An age based on radioactive decay may be based on an assumption of a constant rate (though more on that later), but the assumption that the earth is 6,000 years old is based not on a single assumption, but rather on a large number of them.

    1. We assume the Bible’s accuracy
    2. We assume that the Bible intends to present us with history in specific passages
    3. We assume that we read those passages correctly
    4. We assume that genealogies are, or are even intended to be, complete
    5. We even make an assumption of constant rate in reading Genesis 1, that each day is 24 hours long even when it occurs before the appearance of the sun
    6. . . . and many more

    But do we have to make such assumptions, or are these things testable? Other ancient records go well beyond the 6,000 year history based on the Bible. The great pyramid and the Sumerians, amongst others, would have live through the great flood. In later years, records from these other nations can be synchronized with part of the Biblical record. If we can synchronize the record at one point, why would we take the Bible in isolation earlier, unless it proved to be accurate in providing this specific type of historical data?

    I discuss the issue of historicity in the Genesis accounts on my Participatory Bible Study Blog in articles Historicity of Genesis 1-11, Literary Types in Genesis 1-11, and Perspective on Vocabulary and Genre in Genesis 1-11. To summarize, there are good indications that these chapters are not intended as narrative history, and if they are not narrative history, then the assumption (!) that one can glean that type of information from them would be incorrect.

    But my intent here is not to prove the 6,000 year old earth wrong. While I avoid the term “prove,” I think that the evidence against a young earth is so strong that it is perverse to reject it. But what I am concerned with here is what one does with the concept of “truth.” This isn’t capital T “Truth” with which one can pound the table, but valid data on which one can base sound decisions for one’s life.

    I depend on such information from science and technology all the time as I live my life. I’m using a computer that is based on such information. Of course, I am again not speaking of historical information.

    So let’s turn to the resurrection. I’ve discussed recently how far from proof this is, and looked at a couple of attempts to place it on firmer ground. Some of my conservative friends may be concerned that I’ve given away the store by stating that a miracle can’t be the most probable explanation of an event by nature from an historical point of view.

    But one can provide some evidence that sets up the circumstances and the results of the resurrection. This too is based on many assumptions. First, one assumes that there were witnesses, that nobody just made this all up. Second, one assumes that this material was passed on with any sense of accuracy. Both of these assumptions involve a set of other assumptions about the nature of the ancient world and how its people worked.

    But if I use the word “assumption” in the manner in which Mr. Lamb uses it, I would say, “Well, those are your assumptions, and that’s how you choose to believe.” There’s no basis for testing and discussion. Any believe is equally plausible because they are all based on assumptions. But are all assumptions equal?

    What I would suggest rather, is that each of those assumptions can be discussed and tested and we can discover what is more or less probable. Then we can build a complete picture based on the best set of parameters we can work out. Note that I begin to deviate seriously here from the definition of “assumption” that I stated earlier. That’s because I believe it is the wrong concept to use.

    “It’s all based on your assumptions” parallels “that’s just your interpretation” in terms of tearing down the possibility of intelligent discourse and discovering truth. “That’s just your interpretation” suggests that a text actually has no meaning of its own, and anyone can read into it whatever they desire with equal validity. “It’s all based on your assumptions” does the same thing to scientific data.

    As used here, some “assumptions” are more equal than others, with apologies to George Orwell. Only in this case I’ve inverted the idea, and it is true and right that some assumptions be more equal.

    In fighting what he perceives as falsehood, Mr. Lamb has taken an unwitting (I hope) shot at any sort of truth or validity.

    To simply consider one thing regarding the age of the earth, one of the most common young earth creationist objections to constant rate in a natural process is the idea that the global flood would have massively changed deposition rates, as indeed it would. But the first point here is that there is no assumption that deposition rates everywhere and at all times are the same, but rather than the physical laws that govern them remain the same.

    Scientists are well aware that a flood deposits different things at different rates depending on the specific conditions. That’s why they can look at the state of the geologic column and be quite certain that there was no global flood. It would have left certain depositions. Old earth creationists are willing to go with the evidence here and understand the flood to be more local, though certainly great enough to stand out.

    Amongst the things that one can use to check deposition are the fossils of creatures that lived at that time. For example, if a layer was deposited instantly in a massive flood, all of the creatures involved would have to have been alive at one time.

    Just as we can divide up the various assumptions that we would have to make about the Bible in order to get the young earth position, we can divide up the assumptions here as well. Then we can test these one against another. One need not make all these assumptions at once, and many of them can be tested and determined to be probable or improbable.

    Let me provide references to a couple of articles:

    Abundant Evidence, Skepticism, Apparent Age (from the American Scientific Affiliation). Provides a more detailed discussion of the relativism involved in this type of argument.

    FAQ: Age of the Earth (Talk.Origins Archive). Goes into more of the nuts and bolts.

    CB102: Mutations Adding Information (Talk.Origins Archive). A good starting point on this issue, raised in Mr. Lamb’s comment to the earlier post.

  • Book Notes: Jesus and the Eyewitnesses

    Bauckham, Richard. Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2006. 538 pp. ISBN: 0-8028-3162-1.

    I would remind my readers again that I am writing some notes on my experience of reading this book and not a formal review.

    I requested this book via interlibrary loan because it was recommended by a reader who commented on one of my posts blogging through What Have They Done with Jesus?. I objected to the idea that one could improve on the picture of Jesus by first building a picture of the eyewitnesses and then discussing what those eyewitnesses could tell us about Jesus. Since there is much less documentation on each of the eyewitnesses than there is on Jesus, any picture we create of them will be much less certain than even what we can say about Jesus himself, so just how does this procedure help us in getting a true picture of Jesus?

    Reading Bauckham on this topic has enlightened me somewhat on the intentions, if Witherington is indeed working on the same basis as Bauckham, but I remain essentially unimpressed with the final result. Bauckham is much plainer in expressing his procedure, and his book is more academic in style. (This isn’t particularly a criticism of Witherington who was intentionally writing a popular book.)

    If I can summarize in the briefest possible time, Bauckham is arguing that the gospel story was passed on by a form of controlled informal tradition, and that those who controlled this were the eyewitnesses sprinkled through the church.

    He finds evidence for this in a number of lines of argument including the use of names in the gospels, the shape of the stories, the level of divergence that is tolerated, and what is not tolerated, and even some cases of anonymity in the passion narrative of Mark. Why, for example, is it “one of the men with Jesus” who draws a sword in Mark 14:47, but the man is identified with Simon Peter in John 18:10? Bauckham argues that at the time Mark was written, this person’s identity needed to be protected because the authorities would be after him, while by the time John was written he (Simon Peter) was already dead.

    That is only one in many arguments for the survival of the eyewitnesses and their role in preservation of the story. I’m not going to make a real attempt to summarize all of these, as it would be impossible to do justice to the arguments. The book is only a bit over 500 pages; read it for yourself!

    While I have never been convinced by the argument that there were no eyewitnesses remaining by the time the gospel text was written, I am also unconvinced of the value of eyewitness testimony in and of itself. You may rightly ask what this leaves me.

    In the third quest the emphasis has been on evaluating sayings and incidents according to a set of criteria. This results generally in a very minimalistic Jesus, because some of the criteria, even necessary and good ones, tend to weed out a great deal that is quite possibly true, but which simply cannot be demonstrated well enough. This result seems surprising given the large amount of written material about Jesus, more than we have on many figures of history that we nonetheless feel free to characterize in more detail.

    It is no wonder that Christians seek something that will work a bit better. Perhaps they need look no further than how modern writing about ancient history is actually done. In essence, historians take the pieces that they have, sift them as they make sense, and attempt to fill in the blanks. I may simply be missing something in my reading, as I have only read a tiny fraction of what’s available on the historical Jesus, but I think Jesus is the only historical figure concerning whom we are barely willing to speculate. He becomes a very uninteresting figure.

    Part of this results from scholars who seem to want a Jesus who could occupy the office down the hall in the ivory tower. I think the argument over wisdom teacher vs. eschatological prophet is just such an issue. Many people of that time combined aspects of both. Why is this not possible for Jesus to do? He doesn’t have to fit our notions of consistency and a coherent philosophy.

    If we take this kind of approach, then I think we can also give serious consideration to the idea that the earliest generations of Christians might have had some idea of what they were talking about. They just may have had some idea of the character of Jesus. We would prefer a Jesus who perhaps never made the seemingly grandiose claim to be the Messiah. Let the early Christians do that for him. But somehow he made such an impression on them that a fairly substantial movement was able to get the idea that he thought he was the Messiah.

    Even if we view the tradition as an imperfect mirror, with the real Jesus dimly reflected therein, it seems a bit hasty to discard the mirror and start from scratch. In this sense I’m in tune with Bauckham, though that is saying much less than he is.

    On the other hand, it seems to me that many orthodox Christian writers are trying to combat the historical Jesus scholars by finding a way to say that Jesus is just as portrayed in the canonical gospels and that this is history, every bit as sound as any other form of history. Thus we have Bauckham arguing at great length that eyewitness testimony was important to ancient people, and finally in his conclusion that perhaps we should take it more seriously as well. “Trusting the eyewitnesses” is to replace “applying criteria” and result in a more complete and substantially accurate picture of Jesus.

    Here is where I part company. In trying to establish the eyewitnesses, Bauckham has made a number of arguments that are quite possibly true, but are nonetheless often no better established than the reasoning behind various criteria for historicity. This doesn’t mean he’s wrong; it simply means that when all is said and done we don’t know. My suggestion is that we go ahead and get comfortable with that.

    In my view, there is one problem with bringing orthodox theology in line with good historical methodology. In general, historical methodology is based on probability; not generally calculated probability, but a sort of common sense decision as to what is more likely. If two kings claim a great victory, we know they can’t both be right, so we look for more evidence, or we draw some common sense conclusions.

    In the case of Jesus, however, orthodox theology claims that he is unique, God in the flesh living amongst us. What does common sense say about a claim to virgin birth? Not likely. So if the options are either illegitimate birth by natural means or virgin birth, historical probability suggests the former. What does common sense say about people who die? They don’t come back. So if the claim is that somebody rose from the dead, historical probability suggests it’s not true.

    In practically every case of virgin birth claims (all that I know of) and all but a very small number of resurrection claims, neither believers nor unbelievers would decide differently. Yet I, an otherwise rational person (I think!), believe that Jesus rose from the dead. This is not an historical event that can be made probable. Even assuming miracles are possible, which I do, I am not going to assume that they are the most probable explanation. This can be tested by presenting the miraculous claims of another religion, and seeing how likely one is to accept them.

    In addition, I know my own experience. I did not come to believe in Jesus by historical methods. I came to believe in Jesus through contemporary testimony. I find the Jesus of orthodox faith fits that. I believe there is historical evidence for such a Jesus, but that this evidence falls far short of proof, and even short of probability. It must be so, because the Jesus of my faith is inherently improbable, unique in fact.

    Now you may be thinking that I’m not all that far from Bauckham, even if I got there afterward. And indeed the picture of Jesus in my head goes well with what Bauckham (and Witherington, for that matter) have written. That is indeed the case. But I sense in both writers the intention to make this more historically firm, to suggest that this is an historian’s conclusion. The jacket blurbs and advertising text tend to suggest this as well, though heaven knows many writers are badly served by their book covers! Thus far, I just don’t think they have done so successfully.

    I nonetheless strongly recommend this book for anyone interested in historical Jesus research. As I have repeatedly noted, each book on this topic is extremely good at critiquing the views of others, even if you find that their own pictures of Jesus are no more probable. In addition, Bauckham documents well and examines arguments in detail, so that you can profit no matter where you stand on the final result.

    Addendum:

    Here’s an overview of the chapters so you can get a better idea of the course of the argument. I have left the notes in an abbreviated form as I wrote them immediately after reading.

    1: From the Historical Jesus to the Jesus of Testimony
    General overview of the idea – going to the Jesus of testimony, specifically eyewitness testimony
    2: Papias on the Eyewitnesses
    Rehabilitating Papias

    3: Names in the Gospel Tradition
    Studying use of names. Why are certain characters named and others not.
    4: Palestinian Jewish Names
    Palestinian Jewish names – an exceedingly useful chapter even if you wind up disagreeing with the thesis of the book.
    5: The Twelve
    Looking at the lists of the apostles; reconciling most, error in Levi=Matthew equation.
    6: Eyewitnesses “from the Beginning”
    What constituted an eyewitness?
    7: The Petrine Perspective in the Gospel of Mark
    Looking at indicators that Mark is based on someone’s testimony, and that this testimony is that of Peter the apostle.
    8: Anonymous Persons in Mark’s Passion Narrative
    Arguing they are not named so as to protect the guilty.
    9: Papias on Mark and Matthew
    Deals with the differences in how the two gospels are put together and how their sources are to be understood.
    10: Models of Oral Tradition
    We get to one of the big questions-what does oral tradition preserve and how?
    11: Transmitting the Jesus Tradition
    Bauckham now argues that we have a “controlled informal” transmission, with the “controllers” being the eyewitnesses surviving in the community.
    12: Anonymous Tradition or Eyewitness Testimony
    Looking at the reasons why we should see the gospels as eyewitness testimony rather than a tradition of the community without named sources.
    13: Eyewitness Memory
    One of my own key questions, and one that I don’t think Baukham manages to deal with adequately, but nonetheless he does look at it more carefully than most.
    14: The Gospel of John as Eyewitness Testimony
    I think this will easily be the most controversial chapter, though I think Bauckham makes the best case possible.
    15: The Witness of the Beloved Disciple
    Identifying who this person was, and then assigning him as author of the gospel of John.
    16: Papias on John
    A very difficult search for reflections of the views of Papias on the gospel of John. His (possible) references could be to John the Elder, whom Bauckham identifies as the author rather than John son of Zebedee.
    17: Polycrates and Irenaeus on John
    Looking for more patristic evidence and judging whether it can apply to John the elder, and just how did the identification of the author with John son of Zebedee occur?
    18: The Jesus of Testimony
    Summary of the case.

  • Book Notes: Live to Tell

    Kallenberg, Brad J. Live to Tell: Evangelism for a Postmodern Age. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2002. ISBN 1-58743-050-9. 138 pages.

    One of our pastors handed this book to my wife because of her interest particularly in discipleship. You may ask why one should give a book on evangelism to someone primarily concerned with discipleship, but in this case the choice was good. This book combines discipleship with evangelism so that they are practically one topic.

    Kallenberg has a certain amount of courage just writing a book right now with the word “evangelism” in the subtitle, and perhaps it becomes even more of an act of courage when the word “postmodern” is also included. That combination can be a bit intimidating.

    My wife found the postmodern vocabulary and the style of the book in general just too much to plow through. She’s practical, writes and speaks briefly, and likes to get down to the point where the rubber meets the road. Kallenberg doesn’t write that way at all. Since she also wanted to honor her pastor’s request to read the book, that made things a bit difficult.

    But a solution was lurking right around the corner, in the person of her husband who will read practically anything–me! We try to get together at least once a week to do some kind of joint study, generally studying from a book one of us has chosen, which we then discuss. In this case I read the book, summarized the chapter and then read selections, after which we discussed the content.

    The content of the book is really quite good, though the presentation and also some of the examples remind me of much that I don’t like postmodernism, especially as popularly conceived. That’s another concept, but I would simply note that it seems very easy for postmodernists to get mired in a slough without map or compass, without any idea of where to go.

    That very miring seems to provide Kallenberg with his “hook” to reach a postmodern generation. He is by no means rejecting postmodernism–the whole miring thing is my comment. Rather, if I may use my own metaphor, he aims at leading people out of the mire they’re in by example, rather than teaching them all about how to get out of mires, where the edges are, where the dangers are, and so forth.

    If we find someone in the postmodern age who doesn’t know where to go, he suggests we avoid the “teach them what is right” approach and try a “show them how to live right” method. I know I am summarizing a great deal here, but that is the essence of the subject as I read it. And since Kallenberg (and I) believe that Christianity has a story that is truly efficacious, that approach is best. If people are looking for stories, bring them a good story. Even better, show them a good story.

    Of course, this story idea isn’t anything new to Christianity. When God needed to tell us about himself, he didn’t send a systematic theologian. He sent his Son, who showed us in person and in story form just what God was getting at. As I read it, Kallenberg is simply grabbing a page from God’s play book and applying it to the life of the church today.

    Kallenberg presents this in the vocabulary of postmodern philosophy. Even where I find that postmodernism correctly criticizes modern thought, I find that vocabulary annoying at best. But the book isn’t really aimed at making me like the vocabulary. If I’m to communicate with people steeped in that very vocabulary, I’ll need to learn to understand it. In fact, Kallenberg uses this very metaphor of language learning for the process of conversion and discipleship.

    At the same time, he manages to erase the gap between the concepts of conversion and discipleship. Most of the people he uses as examples do not become Christians at some instant in time. The modern conception of conversion is that people becomes convinced that Christianity is true, that they are sinners, that Jesus is the one way to salvation, and then at some instant they pray a prayer and surrender their lives to Jesus. At that moment, discipleship begins, or at least should begin.

    In Kallenberg’s examples, it is much more likely that one will go to church and even participate in the life of the church before any specific “conversion” experience. What brings the person to Christ is their becoming a participant in the life of the church. In one case what convinces someone that God is personal is not theological argument but observing the congregation worshiping a personal God.

    I could wish that the many good points that are made in this book were divorced from some of the philosophical vocabulary. Perhaps there should be a Reader’s Digest version for practical people, but I’m not sure how one would write such a thing. There are so many elements of what Kallenberg is teaching that are simply good, practical ideas on being a good neighbor.

    But we have what we have, and for anyone who can make it through the first chapter, and occasional detours along the way, this will be a book well worth reading.

  • Does God Care about 2% or 5%?

    Mike, at The Creation of an Evolutionist, calls attention to an article by Dinesh D’Souza on Townhall.com, in which D’Souza replies to an argument by Christopher Hitchens. Mike says this is worth thinking about, and I agree, but I’ve got some bones to pick with D’Souza’s approach.

    Hitchens’ argument is essentially that God has been absent for 98% of human history. According to this argument, humanity has been around for 100,000 years, while Christian history, which is apparently the only part of concern in this argument, has lasted only 5,000 years. Thus, man is unredeemed for 95% of human history. One hardly knows where to start in discussing this abuse of math and logic.

    Here’s the quote:

    Here’s what Hitchens said. Homo sapiens has been on the planet for a long time, let’s say 100,000 years. Apparently for 95,000 years God sat idly by, watching and perhaps enjoying man’s horrible condition. After all, cave-man’s plight was a miserable one: infant mortality, brutal massacres, horrible toothaches, and an early death. Evidently God didn’t really care.

    Then, a few thousand years ago, God said, “It’s time to get involved.” Even so God did not intervene in one of the civilized parts of the world. He didn’t bother with China or Egypt or India. Rather, he decided to get his message to a group of nomadic people in the middle of nowhere. It took another thousand years or more for this message to get to places like India and China.

    (Note that the move from 5% to 2% seems to happen in the time the message takes to spread.)

    We are assuming that because Jesus came at one particular time, and because what we count as the Christian Bible was initiated at a particular time, God must have been inactive before that time. But there is no particular reason to believe that. One also would assume, on this basis, that the massive destruction we can inflict today, and indeed have inflicted is a better indication of God’s absence than the misery of life as a caveman.

    Human misery is an issue for Christian apologetics, but the argument against Christianity is really not strengthened by this particular argument. Since I have been blogging on theodicy for some time, and am not nearly finished, I’m going to leave that issue aside at the moment. Whatever arguments apply to things like the holocaust will likely apply to the misery of cavemen.

    D’Souza justifiably attacks the numbers. He has discovered that only 2% of the 105 billion people who have ever been born were born in the time before Jesus came to earth. I haven’t checked those statistics, but let’s assume that they are essentially correct. D’Souza has put the math in perspective, a worthy accomplishment, but he hasn’t really answered the underlying problem. As one commenter on the article points out, if God can ignore 2% of the population, how can he know that he isn’t part of a 2% that God is ignoring now?

    D’Souza’s other argument, that human prehistory and the sudden explosion of civilization are much more of a problem for atheists, deserves a separate response. It is not an area that interests me nearly as much.

    There seem to be several assumptions regarding revelation and salvation on which this argument is based. The ones I noticed off-hand are:

    1. Revelation has only occurred in the written scriptures of Judaism and Christianity
      While many Christians may believe that, a substantial number of Christian theologians do not. C. S. Lewis, surely not a liberal leader, held that God revealed himself many times, and that myths in pagan religions bore truth that led toward the eventual truth about Jesus. Accepting the Bible as God’s revelation does not require that one deny that God spoke to other people, even to cavemen.
    2. Redemption only occurred in that same period
      I would not expect Hitchens, an atheist, to be concerned with this issue, but Christians surely should. The death of Jesus was efficacious for people who lived prior to his death, and even prior to the first written prophecy. If this is a critique of Christianity, Christian understandings on this issue should rule.
    3. Absence of records means actual absence
      We really have now idea how God might have related to cavemen. Amongst those who care about such things, there are debates about just when the image of God came to be. Personally, I’m not that interested, though if I were to argue, I would suggest that God’s image is not a binary thing. Those who look toward their creator, however fumbling that effort, are manifesting some aspect of the image of God. My own efforts to seek out God may well not be sufficiently different from the earliest caveman to even notice.

    D’Souza has place the numbers in context very effectively. As stated, the argument appears to suggest that God didn’t care about 95-98% of the people who ever lived, whereas we’re talking about 2%. But is this a good answer for a Christian? I think it simply buys into the assumptions of D’Souza’s debate opponent. Theodicy will continue to fail, I think, as long as we make the assumption that God’s “care” involves making us all comfortable. There’s a harsh reality in there that many Christian apologists don’t want to have front and center–God lets people reap what they so for the most part.

    Christian theology teaches that God cares about everyone, but it also teaches that he does not resolve everyone’s problems. He doesn’t prevent all wars, death, disease, or suffering. Why that should be is another subject. But whether it happens to 2%, 5%, or 95% is not the issue.

    I recall a sociology class I took in my first year of college. The professor was a communist. No, not a liberal I accused of being a communist. He was a self-proclaimed communist. In a discussion I brought up Solzhenitsyn’s figure of 66 million dead as a result of communism in Russia. (I’m working from memory here. Solzhenitsyn was citing a statistician who calculated the figure.)

    “I think you’re wrong about that,” he said. “The cost in lives was only about 40 million.”

    I was fairly stunned. Using “only” and “40 million” together with reference to people killed was pretty astonishing. The reduction of the estimate by 26 million didn’t make Russian communism look any better to me. Similarly, reducing the number of people ignored by God to 2% or 5% of human doesn’t help me here at all.

    What does help me is that I don’t believe God ignored them, any more than he ignored those 66 million people in Russia or 6 to 10 million in World War II. In all cases, the problem remains the same: Why doesn’t God make it better? It’s a good question, or better it’s one that will certainly be asked, and it remains the same despite the numbers.

    [Note that I leave this here even though someone is sure to note that I have not responded to the more basic issue of why God allows any of the things I’ve cited. I’m addressing those in the posts in my theodicy category, and will continue to do so over time.]

  • Newbigin: Proper Confidence

    With it’s subtitle, “Faith, Doubt, and Certainty in Christian Discipleship” this little big sets sail into a rather intense area of debate, and one which is very relevant to recent discussions on this blog. I’m not really going to try to summarize it. It is only 105 pages and those aren’t too terribly intense if you’ve done a bit of theological reading before. I’d suggest getting a copy and reading it. I got mine as a gift from a friend. Giving me books is a great way to get on my good side!

    I’m afraid to summarize. Newbigin boils down a great deal of material into those 105 pages, so setting out to summarize is difficult. But I would say briefly that he holds that all knowledge involves risk, as a subject makes a commitment to some thing. In the same way all knowledge is subjective, as it is known by a subject. There is no point in discussing knowledge without a subject who is doing the knowing. Nonetheless we can be confident of such subjective knowledge, and in fact we regularly are.

    I’m pretty certain I’ll be dissatisfied with that summary later, and I’m sure someone who has read the book will come back and point out how I have oversimplified everything, lost all the nuances, and perhaps even misrepresented some aspect. I guess I will take the risk of choosing to believe it will do to lay the groundwork for my response.

    I agree with Newbigin in broad outlines, but find myself coming to a different point on the spectrum as a result, always providing that I am correctly reading where he comes out within the outline. A key point here is simply that all knowledge is subjective to some extent. We do not know absolutely or from a perspectiveless framework. We know from who we are and where we are.

    In some postmodern thought, this results in the claim that all ideas are so subjective that we shouldn’t make truth claims between them at all. In the creation-evolution controversy, many people who would probably forcefully reject any idea that they are postmodern nonetheless use the “all stories are equal” approach to denigrate science and thereby make their own story look better. If scientists might be wrong and creationists might be wrong, then why privilege the results of scientific research over young earth creationism? (Note that the example is mine, not Newbigin’s.)

    Newbigin doesn’t leave us there, however. He does believe that there is a reality to be perceived, and that we do our best to perceive it, and in doing so take a risk through the commitments that we make. There is a certainty, not that we are right, but that we are going toward what is right, or so I interpret page 67, separated from its specifically Christian commitment.

    But the whole cannot be separated from its Christian commitment, because that is ultimately what Newbigin is talking about–the commitment to the one who is truth, a subjective commitment because it is a choice taken with risk, but not something of which one cannot be confident at all.

    I certainly agree that all knowledge is limited and subjective. The results of scientific research are not complete, and my theological wanderings are certainly not absolute. (I do believe there are things that are absolutely true, but they are so far from our perception that we have to be satisfied with doing our best to head that direction. It’s sort of like navigating by the north star. You’ll never get there, but if you keep on, you’ll arrive somewhere in the vicinity of the north pole.

    So in the sense that all knowledge is subjective and that one makes choices, takes risks, and can (indeed will) have confidence in things one does not know absolutely, I agree with Newbigin. Where I perceive that I differ is in the relative levels. I think it is very easy to overemphasize how relative certain elements of physical knowledge are, and to underemphasize just how relative certain spiritual issues are. The idea that all stories are equal results from such a confusion.

    In practical terms most of us treat “objective” as something that can be similarly perceived by multiple people. A scientific experiment that can be repeated by anyone with the proper supplies and equipment is considered objective. Fantasies in my own mind are subjective because nobody else can perceive them. While there is a subjective element in the most objective fact, and there is an objective element in the most subjective (neurons fire when I fantasize, I would imagine!), there’s a very valuable distinction there. I don’t think Newbigin misses that point; I do think he emphasizes is somewhat less than I would.

    As an example, let me relate three experiences, two of them singular and one that has been repeated many times. In the first, a couple of days after our son died, I was in my wife’s home office with her when I clearly heard our son speaking in the next room. It was clear enough to me that I actually got up and started to head over there to talk to him before I was jolted by the reality that he was dead. My wife heard nothing, of course, and a recorder would have recorded anything. In fact, the only evidence you have or can have of this event is that I relate it. I didn’t even tell my wife what happened at the time. She simply noticed me leave the room and decide to come back, and since such inconsistent behavior is not uncommon for me, she never noticed.

    In the second, we were both in the living room and I heard water running. I got up mumbling about having left the tap running in the bathroom (though it did sound oddly different). My wife starts laughing and says, “No, that’s my new screen saver with sounds of running water.” In this case there is an objective event, but I misperceive it.

    In the final case, which happens commonly, I hear the dog barking, and I assume something has happened. This is objectively demonstrable, as in anyone who goes to where the dog is will likely perceive him barking and almost as likely notice why. He generally only barks for some reason. It may not be a good one, but there will be a cause!

    My point in all those words is that there are many levels of confidence that we have in our knowledge, and the question here would be where we place certain matters of spirituality on this continuum. I think that on a day to day basis I rank them much more subjectively than does Newbigin, but we both rank them somewhere.

    Which leads to the point on which the preceding paragraph is completely wrong–or is it? Both Newbigin and I make a very fundamental choice, the choice to believe in the incarnation. This provides at the foundation of our thinking the believe in God as creator, in other words, that the universe makes sense, and second that we have placed our final confidence in a person. In my personal thinking, and as I read Newbigin in his as well, this becomes a central axiom in our way of thinking. Subordinate facts may fall wherever on the spectrum, but this choice remains at the core, and is the one to which we give our true confidence.

    To quote from page 66-67, and do so more faithfully to its context than my previous allusion:

    If we are to use the word “certainty” here, then it is not the certainty of Descartes. It is the kind of certainty expressed in such words as those of the Scriptures: “I know whom I have believed, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me” (2 Tim. 1:12). . . . The weight of confidence rests there and not here with us. Secondly, the phrase “until that day” reminds us that this is not a claim to possess final truth but to be on the way that leads to the fullness of truth. . . .

    That’s a pretty good expression, I think.

  • The God Exception – Excursus on Theodicy

    Theodicy is a relatively interesting thing, and I’m really going to discuss a popular aberration, so those of you who have real backgrounds in theology can tune out, or critique me for oversimplifications.

    One basic way of stating the entry point for Christian theodicy is that there are three key things we believe about God and the world: 1) He is good, 2) He is all-powerful, and 3) Evil exists. These three cannot be reconciled as normally defined, and thus much ink is spilled in trying to work with them. No, that’s not the whole of theodicy, nor does it always have to be stated that way, or derived from this irreconcilable (or more commonly inconsistent) triad.

    In popular discussions the details are often bypassed, and we get a simple argument against the existence of God because there is evil. “I don’t believe in God because so many people suffer,” someone announces. Believers often fail to look behind the statement in response.

    The argument from suffering really doesn’t go to the existence of God as such, but rather to the nature of God. I recall having this discussion in a philosophy of religion class in which I said simply, “What if God is evil?” I think now I would use “indifferent” as an example, but I used evil. “That would be too horrible to contemplate,” said one of my fellow students. But the fact is that “too horrible to contemplate” does nothing to establish that something isn’t true.

    This particular form of theodicy has to occur within a framework of religious views. The triad is only inconsistent because Christians believe that God is both good and omniscient. One possible way to reconcile these is by simply saying that God isn’t one thing or the other. For example, a dualist has no difficulty reconciling these points. God is good, but he isn’t all-powerful. He’s in conflict with an evil power.

    I encountered this the other day in discussing the book of Joshua. How can I question the command to kill all the Canaanites if it is a command given by God? It’s a good question. Is there some standard of good that is above God, and if so who made it? If God is the creator of everything, doesn’t he get to say what’s good? There’s a whole new can of worms! But the more direct question here is how do you reconcile God’s action here as recorded in scripture with God’s actions or statements elsewhere in scripture?

    That’s why it’s so important not to interpret scripture based on any narrow selection of passages. For example, what do I learn about God by reading Ezekiel 18:32 (for I have no pleasure in the death of anyone) and then comparing it to God’s action in the flood when God is sorry he made humanity and decided to wipe them all out except for eight people and start over. You may say that they were all wicked and deserved to die, which is indeed what the story says, but the action still seems extreme.

    If we turn then to Job, whose children are killed along with many of his servants, because God allows the adversary (the satan, but don’t read a Christian concept of “Devil” here) suggests that Job can’t take it. They may not be 100% innocent, yet the only reason given in the story for them to die is to help God prove a point.

    I’m not going to dig into these stories much right now, but this leads me to a point I feel I can discuss with more confidence than a philosophical question. How does one reconcile Biblical statements, stories, and their implications in such a way as to present God as just and good? Can this be done? When I’ve looked at a few incidents, I’m going to return to the question of whether evolution actually presents a more serious issue for theodicy than do many standard Biblical stories.

    In conclusion let me give one warning. As Christians we need to beware of answering one objection to God’s justice by making God look bad in another way. For example, if one suggests that God was simply carrying out justice in the flood because everyone other than Noah and his family was irredeemably evil, we should also ask why God didn’t intervene in a more successful way earlier. When dealing with a classroom, for example, I found that when one intervenes early, one will have greater success, whereas if one ignores a problem long enough, one loses control of the classroom. Is it not possible here to answer God’s justice problem by portraying God as inept?

  • On Being a True Believer

    I’ve been thinking of writing this ever since I read Joe Carter’s post Plagued by Certainty, but I haven’t really had the time. You see, while there are certainly many things regarding which I disagree with Joe Carter, I find a certain resonance with his claim of certainty in matters of faith.

    This certainty does not extend to the full list, nor has it remained unquestioned throughout my life. Rather, I would call myself a true believer not because I have always been convinced, nor because I have a growing belief, but rather because I have made the maximum effort to disbelieve, and come up a failure.

    (more…)

  • An Evangelist for Evolution

    The Rev. Michael Dowd is preaching a surprising message: Evolution is real and science points to the existence of God. (Source: .)

    Rev. Dowd also joins the growing group who acknowledge that accepting evolution does impact one’s theology in some ways. I find his specific take interesting.

    One theme that seems to get someone entry into Christian venues is the idea that science can help support faith. Those who say, “Evolution is true, live with it” don’t get so much of a hearing. Unfortunately, while I believe that scientific evidence can be seen as consistent with the existence of God, I see nothing that forces or drives the conclusion that there truly is a God. Often the evidence makes one drop some definition of God that one had held before.

    In a comment to a previous post Larry B. writes:

    In the same (but different) way, I honestly feel that evolution for a lot of people has unmoored more than a few christians from their foundations.

    (I don’t want to copy the whole comment here, but it is worthwhile reading the entire context.)

    I agree with this statement, but would ask what is the proper response? If people have faith that God will heal everyone for whom prayer is offered, they will very possibly be “unmoored” from that faith when reality doesn’t accord with their expectations. In the case of evolution, I suggest that there is more education needed amongst Christians about the implications and possibilities, so that people can make intelligent decisions.

    I do think it is important to note the real challenges to theology, and to welcome, rather than fear questions. Christianity is ultimately doomed if it cannot find a more friendly way to co-exist with challenges. There’s the “fall over and play dead” option and the “circle the wagons option.” We need more folks in the “let’s have fun with this” camp!

    Or at least that’s my take on it.

  • Blogroll: Quality of Christian Apologetics

    I really wasn’t going to blog about my blogroll today, but An Evangelical Dialogue on Evolution had such a good post that I wanted to link to it, and at the same time I can check off another blog from my blogroll for this round of linking.

    He also links to a post on Through a Glass Darkly (got to love that name!), a fellow member of the Moderate Christian Blogroll. Both of those posts are well worth watching. While I’m at it, I should mention both a disclaimer and a sneaky commercial. My company publishes a set of books on Christian apologetics, the Consider Christianity Series. Having had the experience of editing that set, I would see some points of agreement and disagreement between what these two authors had to say and that series.

    That aside, I think both authors make important points. I am only going to add a couple of things. Apologetics by nature tends to operate quite differently from science. In apologetics, we have our beliefs, and then we try to back them up. The question is how we will back them up. That, of course, interacts with what those beliefs are in the first place.

    An inflexible belief system will tend to produce apologetics that is questionable, simply because one has to work to stretch the facts to accommodate the belief system. A purely evidentiary apologetics will run into this problem, unless it can alter details of that which it defends, and even then it may be difficult simply due to the nature of reality. We simply can’t know enough to tuck in all the loose ends. On the other end of the spectrum, purely presuppositional apologetics often tends to make too many things into presuppositions, and one ends up with a very well ordered package of beliefs and defenses, but very little connection to the real world. Some presuppositionalists will consider that a good thing!

    Between those two extremes, however, are various views that recognize both faith and evidence, and in evidence recognize subjective elements that go into a belief system. For example, I would claim to commune with God pretty much on a daily basis. Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t think this makes me inerrant, nor does it mean you should believe me more than the next person. I’m not making any claims based on it–it’s just part of my spiritual life, and is something I think can be part of anyone’s spiritual life, should they so desire. Is that evidence? Well, it certainly isn’t objective evidence. I’m not going to tell you where your dog ran away to, or what the stock market will do during the day because of my mediations. There is no special light that gathers around my head. Yet that has a great deal to do with my own belief system, rational or not.

    I like works on apologetics that show some struggle with the issues (both posts I reference make good recommendations) without claiming to finally solve all of the problems. That fits with the universe as I experience it, and with God as I experience him. Neither can be tied up neatly and labeled “closed,” and I think neither is likely to go that way. But both invite me to experience them, think about them, argue about them, and look for evidence as to their nature.

    It’s more like a theme park ride than it is like a train ride with a fixed destination.