One of the most contentious issues in theology, affecting science, history, and debates between theists and atheists is the historicity of creation. How and when did God create the world? How does Genesis 1 affect our understanding of history, science, humanity and the world around us? These are significant questions over which much ink has been spilt, and many groups have been divided over the ages, but it should be remembered that this is not a salvation issue – a Christian can be wrong about Genesis 1 and still be saved. The underlying issue is the doctrine of scripture; many feel that their interpretation is so obviously correct that anyone who disagrees with them must not take the Bible seriously. However, it’s only when we stop listening to other people’s exegesis of Genesis 1 that our theology is taking precedence over the Bible. If we want to claim a high view of scripture, then scripture has to shape our theology, not the other way around.
A lot of people think that there’s two views on the six days of Genesis 1, but there’s actually three: the literal six-day creation view (normal 24 hour days), the day-age view (longer periods of time), and the literary framework view (a literary device rather than sequential days/periods of time). Since Blocher’s book In the Beginning, many evangelical scholars, theologians and pastors have been gravitating towards the literary framework view, but I remain unconvinced, both for exegetical and theological reasons. Exegetically, Genesis 1 is formally structured as a narrative, it’s not a poem or a song. There are poems and songs in the Old Testament, but they don’t use the verb forms (Hebrew wayyiqtol verbs) which are used in narratives (including Genesis 1). ‘And God said... and it was so...’ denotes a sequence of events (narrative), not a juxtaposition of images (poetry). Further, where narratives and songs about the events are found togther in the Old Testament, the song follows the narrative (e.g. Exodus 14 & 15; Judges 4 & 5), the narrative of the events doesn’t come after the song about those events (as is sometimes argued for Genesis 1 & 2).
Theologically, I’m convinced that one of the major burdens of Genesis 1 is to demonstrate God’s orderliness of creation; the first three days form the world, the last three days fill the world; the first day of the triads form and fill the sky, the second form and fill the oceans, the third form and fill the land. If these six days are a literary framework rather than a historical sequential order, then the literary account of Genesis 1 is orderly, but God’s actual creation of the world is not necessarily orderly. Those who hold the literary framework view often then find another purpose for Genesis 1; for Blocher, it’s a theology of the Sabbath rather than a theology of creation; for Walton it’s the functionality of creation rather than the orderliness of creation. While I have a lot of respect for my teachers and peers who hold the literary framework view, while researching the interpretations of Genesis 1, I developed a lot of respect for literal six-day creationists who recognise this issue, and resolve to let the Bible shape their understanding of creation, rather than adopting a more liberal view of the historicity and purpose of Genesis 1.
However, I’m not quite convinced of the literal six-day creation view either, again for exegetical and theological reasons. Exegetically, the word day (both in Hebrew and English) does not necessarily refer to a period of 24 hours. In fact, it means something other than 24 hours in its very first occurrence in Genesis 1: ‘God called the light “day”, and the darkness he called “night” (Genesis 1:5). Moreover, apart from the contested ‘and there was evening and morning – the nth “day”,’ (Genesis 1:5, 8, 13, 19, 23, 31), every occurrence of the word day in the singular in Genesis 1 refers to something other than a period of 24 hours (Genesis 1:14, 16, 18). Further, in Genesis 2:4, the words ‘when the Lord God made the earth and the heavens’ is literally ‘in the day the Lord God made the earth and the heavens’ – the word ‘day’ in the singular is used to refer to the whole six days of creation. This is not reading the word ‘day’ as a metaphor, but in the context of Genesis 1. Finally, many commentators have noticed that the seventh day doesn’t end (unlike the first six), and have concluded that we are still in the seventh day of God’s rest from his work of creation since ‘his works have been finished since the creation of the world’ (Hebrews 4:3). God is certainly powerful enough to create the universe in six days (or in six milliseconds for that matter), but different uses of the word day in Genesis 1, and the open ended seventh day, imply that God is not necessarily communicating the exact time frame that he used to create the universe.
Theologically, I’m hesitant to pit God’s special revelation (the Bible) against God’s general revelation (creation). One of the primary hermeneutics that Christians use to understand the Bible is to read it without drawing dichotomies within it. God’s word is not self-referentially incoherent, and so we cannot interpret parts of it in ways that contradict other parts. If God’s divine nature may also be seen creation (Romans 1:19-20), then this hermeneutical principle must also include his general revelation. As Packer suggests: ‘Our attitude must be determined by the principle that, since the same God is the author both of nature and of scripture, true science and right interpretation of scripture cannot conflict’ (Fundamentalism and the Word of God, p135). Our understandings of general revelation (science) and special revelation (theology) should not be pitted against each other, but used to qualify and inform our interpretation of the other. In order for doctrine to be consistent with reality, it must be informed by and consistent with scientific observations. Christians affirm that the Bible is true, but seek to understand how it is true, and this is where science can inform our understanding. Before we realised that the earth is round, people used to think that Bible’s description of the pillars of the earth (Job 9:6; Psalm 75:3) meant our world rested on actual pillars, but science has since informed our understanding. Christians affirm that the Bible is true, but science can help us understand how it is true.
Both the universe and the earth have several ‘wrinkles’ that show their age, one of the oldest being the scientific observation of stars up to 13 billion light-years away. Some have suggested that the speed of light has slowed down, however the speed of light is a ‘fine-tuned’ constant in physics required to be fixed for life to exist. Light would have had to have travelled 13 billion light-years in three days and then slowed down by a factor of 1.5 trillion. Alternatively, light could have been created en-route to earth, which is surely possible given God’s omnipotence. However this would mean that God, who gave us Genesis 1 to show us how orderly he was in his creation, was disorderly in the first thing he created. This argument is strictly irrefutable, just like the argument that all of us were created five minutes ago, including all our memories. In this case, however, one can hardly fault someone for working under the assumption that things are as they appear. Scientific evidence for an old earth (not just an old universe) is found in the carbon dating of rocks and fossils. Scientifically qualified and credible six-day creationists concede that the earth ‘appears’ old from the fossil record, and postulate an historical accelerated nuclear decay. Again, this is certainly possible for an omnipotent creator, but it would mean that the creation of the world was significantly disorderly, despite the orderliness of Genesis 1.
One of the motivations that six-day creationists have for challenging science and evolution in particular is in defending the historicity of Adam and the theological necessity of sin to precede death. Defending these biblical truths is admirable, but we need not quarrel when science agrees with our understanding of the Bible. In fact, our understandings of the two can and should be harmonised. Just as the big bang theory supports the Christian doctrine of creation ex nihilo, so too the theory of evolution supports an historical Adam and Eve (unless you think that humanity evolved twice). The only points of tension are in how they were created. As Stott suggests: being formed from the dust of the ground could easily be the biblical way of saying that he created out of an already existing hominid (The Message of Romans, p164). This view is often referred to as theistic evolution: that God created by a process of evolution which he was sovereign over, climaxing in creatures that are in his image. This is not a denial of intelligent design, but of instantaneous intelligent design. If our exegesis of the creation account gives us the freedom to interpret creation as a process, then theistic evolution can give us the explanatory power required to make sense of the fossil records and our genetic likenesses to Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis. The issue is the exegesis of the biblical literature, for this is what drives Christians to (mis)interpret scientific evidence to support their position. While many in the past have interpreted Genesis 1 as a text that refutes evolution because God created all things, Warfield points out that the Bible’s creation account does not refute evolution, but rather the ‘the doctrine of self-creation’ (Evolution, Science and Scripture, p159-160). Genesis clearly reveals God as the creator, but it does not specify the super-naturalness of every act of creation.
Theistic evolution and the theory of an old earth has been seriously challenged by the theological necessity of sin to precede death, for ‘sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men because all sinned’ (Romans 5:12). The theories of evolution and an old earth are then found to be false because evolution requires death. However, Paul writes that through sin death came to all men, not to all life. The death of plants and animals is not required to come after the fall. God gave every green plant for food, though most vegetables cannot be eaten without killing the plant. Moreover, if there was no death before the fall, then God must have re-created all carnivores (and their prey with defensive features) after Adam sinned. However, the fatal consequence of sin is expressed in being cut off from the tree of life. It is not as though the human body (and all creation) was immortal before the fall, but rather that we were able to ‘take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever’ (Genesis 3:2). Sin has profound effects on creation: the ground is cursed (Genesis 3:17-18), and creation is subjected to frustration and bondage to decay (Romans 8:20-21). Frustration and decay, however, is not the same as death. As Lennox suggests: ‘One may reasonably argue that Romans 8:20-21 is carefully written to refer to decay and corruption as distinct from death’ (Seven Days that Divide the World, p80).
Finally, even if the Bible’s account of creation can be reconciled with scientific observations that point to an old earth, six-day creationists often point out the difficulty in reconciling the genealogies in Genesis that indicate that humanity is approximately 6000 years old, with the scientific observations that suggest that humanity is between one and two hundred thousand years old. If the genealogies in Genesis are closed genealogies (without any gaps) then this would certainly suggest that humanity is less than 6000 years old, but this is not demanded by the text. The NIV footnote on Genesis 5:6 helpfully points out that the genealogical formula ‘he became the father of...’ can be translated ‘he became the ancestor of...’ allowing for open genealogies, rather than exhaustive ones. Indeed, every single instance of the word ancestor in the Old Testament is a translation of the Hebrew word for father. In Jewish thought they are one and the same (they don’t have different words for ancestor and father), and so the Jews of Jesus’ day can say “Abraham is our father” (John 8:39). Reading the biblical genealogies as open genealogies also makes sense of the differences between the genealogies in Matthew 1 and Luke 3.
Genesis 1 and modern science both attest to the universe having a beginning, and beginning as a primordial ‘blob’, which is now formed and filled. While science speaks of the expansion of the universe, the Bible describes it as the Lord stretching out the heavens. As an unbeliever, Dr. Andrew Parker wrote a scientific account of the Cambrian explosion: In the Blink of an Eye, only to discover ‘a whole series of parallels between Genesis 1 and the modern, scientific account of life’s history’. He has subsequently reconciled Genesis with the scientific history of the earth in The Genesis Enigma: Why the Bible is Scientifically Accurate. This is exactly what we should expect if we assume a coherence between God’s general revelation and his special revelation, exegetically we can quite properly talk about a history of creation, the account of creation is the account of a history in temporal sequence. When the scientific account of the beginnings of the universe is compared to Genesis 1, we see so many parallels that a natural synthesis is almost hard to avoid.
The findings of modern science should not be denied or seen as contrary to the Bible’s account of creation, nor should they force us to abandon the historicity of the narrative in Genesis 1. Both revelations (general and special) are from God and should be interpreted as such. Modern science does, however, necessitate fresh understandings of the aspects of how the universe was created (as it does for ‘the pillars of the earth’), but not to the extent of necessitating a reading of Genesis 1 as nothing more than a literary-framework of God’s creation process. The most important aspects of a Christian doctrine of creation, namely the nature of the creator as omnipotent, benevolent and triune, creating the universe through and for the person Jesus Christ, remain unaffected by modern science, as does our primary application of the doctrine of creation: to worship God as our creator, and relate to him as his creatures.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
On the Historicity of Jesus
While there’s much debate about whether scientific evidence supports theism or atheism, conversations between Christians and atheists inevitably move to discussing historical evidence at some point. Traditionally, it has been Christians who have taken the conversation into the realm of history, arguing that the historical evidence supports Christianity, but recently more and more atheists are appealing to history to argue for atheism. In 2006, Dawkins wrote “It is even possible to mount a serious, though not widely supported, historical case that Jesus never existed at all” (The God Delusion, p97), and in 2007 Hitchens wrote about “the highly questionable existence of Jesus” (God is not Great, p114). While a number of new atheists quickly propagated these claims, they are not shared by historians. When John Dickson read them out to Macquarie University’s ancient history department, they began to laugh at them. To the historical scholarship, this argument is literally a joke.
Since then, Richard Carrier (blogger and writer on philosophical and historical topics) has been advocating that Jesus was a mythical character (who never actually existed) based on a number of similarities between the gospel and some ancient mythologies. His work has persuaded a large number of online atheist communities who now believe that they have history on their side in debates with Christians. However, there are a few problems. First of all, at the risk of mounting an argument ad hominem, you’ve got to be sceptical of a book written by an aspiring author who was paid $US 20,000 to write a book advocating the Christ myth theory at a time when he desperately needed the money. Of course this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t listen to his arguments, but there’s a certain irony in that he is writing off the early Christian witnesses because of their ‘agenda’, as one who is (self confessed to be) financially motivated and heavily invested in metaphysical naturalism.
But secondly, and more importantly, these arguments have been shown to be outdated, spurious, and incredibly weak when the gospel is recognised in its Jewish context rather than artificially transplanted into a pagan mythological context. Rory Shiner sums up the point well: At the point of the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, Christianity puts its head on the chopping block of history. It is not like the stories of dying and rising gods of antiquity. Such stories come from outside of Judaism, in which Jesus was firmly embedded. And those dying and rising gods were indexed against the seasons, and fertility. They were about how things are. And they were precisely gods, not men. Their dying and rising happened in the dream-time, in pre-history. If you asked a pagan, “On what date did Osiris rise and at what time?” you would get you a puzzled face, saying: “You don’t really get myth, do you?” Jesus by contrast was crucified under Pontius Pilate, within the time of our history, and, it is alleged, rose to life in April, early in the morning, on a Sunday.
When confronted with the historical scholarship on this issue, Lawrence Krauss, a new atheist who highly prizes intellectual honesty and following empirical evidence, demonstrated that he practices what he preaches when he publically accepted that the connections (between the gospel and mythologies) are spurious in light of the evidence. This is a good start, but it’s not nearly far enough. There’s no debate on Jesus’ existence within the academy of ancient history, the debate is on Jesus’ claims and miracles. But even here, the fact that Jesus performed miracles was not debated by his opponents, it was the source of Jesus’ miracles that was contested (Matthew 9:32-34; 12:22-24; Mark 3:22; Luke 11:14-15). When atheists argue that Jesus didn’t do any miracles because there’s no such thing as miracles, they’re being rationalists, not empiricists. Unbelievers who often criticise believers for not substantiating their claims with hard evidence, are at this point closing their eyes to the historical evidence in order to argue for their unfalsifiable assumption that there’s no such thing as miracles. While they can certainly make an argument, it’s not one that’s based on evidence.
When atheists argue, or even suggest, that Jesus didn’t exist, they’re not being rationalists, they’re not being empiricists, they’re grasping at straws. Most of them have been led to believe that there’s an actual debate among historians as to whether Jesus was a historical figure, but no such debate exists. What’s more telling is the lengths that some will go to in order to maintain that Jesus may not have existed 2000 years ago. Most of these people have been burnt by churches or had bad experiences with Christians claiming the moral high ground, and we should be loving and sympathetic to their desire to be free from legalistic religion. But we shouldn’t let them hide behind an imagined debate, especially if they’re going to claim intellectual honesty and/or a desire to follow empirical evidence. Claiming that Jesus didn’t exist is the historical equivalent of claiming that there’s no evidence of micro-evolution (the fact that children are different from their parents), and that the theory of evolution that’s based on it was invented by atheists in order to gain control of the masses. It’s so far-fetched that you’ve got to wonder what happened to the person who suggests it, and graciously help them to work through their hostility.
Since then, Richard Carrier (blogger and writer on philosophical and historical topics) has been advocating that Jesus was a mythical character (who never actually existed) based on a number of similarities between the gospel and some ancient mythologies. His work has persuaded a large number of online atheist communities who now believe that they have history on their side in debates with Christians. However, there are a few problems. First of all, at the risk of mounting an argument ad hominem, you’ve got to be sceptical of a book written by an aspiring author who was paid $US 20,000 to write a book advocating the Christ myth theory at a time when he desperately needed the money. Of course this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t listen to his arguments, but there’s a certain irony in that he is writing off the early Christian witnesses because of their ‘agenda’, as one who is (self confessed to be) financially motivated and heavily invested in metaphysical naturalism.
But secondly, and more importantly, these arguments have been shown to be outdated, spurious, and incredibly weak when the gospel is recognised in its Jewish context rather than artificially transplanted into a pagan mythological context. Rory Shiner sums up the point well: At the point of the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, Christianity puts its head on the chopping block of history. It is not like the stories of dying and rising gods of antiquity. Such stories come from outside of Judaism, in which Jesus was firmly embedded. And those dying and rising gods were indexed against the seasons, and fertility. They were about how things are. And they were precisely gods, not men. Their dying and rising happened in the dream-time, in pre-history. If you asked a pagan, “On what date did Osiris rise and at what time?” you would get you a puzzled face, saying: “You don’t really get myth, do you?” Jesus by contrast was crucified under Pontius Pilate, within the time of our history, and, it is alleged, rose to life in April, early in the morning, on a Sunday.
When confronted with the historical scholarship on this issue, Lawrence Krauss, a new atheist who highly prizes intellectual honesty and following empirical evidence, demonstrated that he practices what he preaches when he publically accepted that the connections (between the gospel and mythologies) are spurious in light of the evidence. This is a good start, but it’s not nearly far enough. There’s no debate on Jesus’ existence within the academy of ancient history, the debate is on Jesus’ claims and miracles. But even here, the fact that Jesus performed miracles was not debated by his opponents, it was the source of Jesus’ miracles that was contested (Matthew 9:32-34; 12:22-24; Mark 3:22; Luke 11:14-15). When atheists argue that Jesus didn’t do any miracles because there’s no such thing as miracles, they’re being rationalists, not empiricists. Unbelievers who often criticise believers for not substantiating their claims with hard evidence, are at this point closing their eyes to the historical evidence in order to argue for their unfalsifiable assumption that there’s no such thing as miracles. While they can certainly make an argument, it’s not one that’s based on evidence.
When atheists argue, or even suggest, that Jesus didn’t exist, they’re not being rationalists, they’re not being empiricists, they’re grasping at straws. Most of them have been led to believe that there’s an actual debate among historians as to whether Jesus was a historical figure, but no such debate exists. What’s more telling is the lengths that some will go to in order to maintain that Jesus may not have existed 2000 years ago. Most of these people have been burnt by churches or had bad experiences with Christians claiming the moral high ground, and we should be loving and sympathetic to their desire to be free from legalistic religion. But we shouldn’t let them hide behind an imagined debate, especially if they’re going to claim intellectual honesty and/or a desire to follow empirical evidence. Claiming that Jesus didn’t exist is the historical equivalent of claiming that there’s no evidence of micro-evolution (the fact that children are different from their parents), and that the theory of evolution that’s based on it was invented by atheists in order to gain control of the masses. It’s so far-fetched that you’ve got to wonder what happened to the person who suggests it, and graciously help them to work through their hostility.
Monday, October 7, 2013
The Emotional Intensity of the New Atheism
One of the few things that’s new about the new atheism is their claim to have the monopoly on reason and logic. Modern atheists frequently assume that they have reason and logic on their side, and often feel like talking to people about their belief in God is like trying to reason with the unreasonable. In claiming the intellectual high ground, they’re often unaware about how emotionally invested they are in their worldview. For many atheists, talking about the existence of God is a purely intellectual exercise, and for them their conclusion about God’s non-existence is not something that they’re emotionally attached to. In their minds, their rejection of theistic claims is reasonable and logical, but not at all emotional.
Unfortunately this is seldom the case. While they’re often well practiced in rehearsing intellectual arguments that often do little more than point out why someone who has an a priori assumption that God doesn’t exist, is sceptical about the explanatory power of the theistic worldview; they’re far from emotionally detached from the view that they so passionately argue for. The most obvious expression of this is ad hominem arguments. People who are confident about their views and about themselves have no need to resort to name calling. Putting other people down is something that children do in order to feel better about themselves. And yet atheists in the public eye continue to defend “the place for mocking” people who disagree with them about the existence of God.
David Robertson (a Christian pastor and author) argues that while the new atheism has the appearance of being intellectual, it’s far more emotional, and this is why it’s so vitriolic. On one occasion, while he was speaking at Cambridge on how emotional the new atheism is, an atheist lecturer stood up and said “What do you mean we’re emotional? We’re not emotional! What are you talking about? You idiot! WE’RE NOT EMOTIONAL!” at which point another person in the audience interjected by saying “Shut up you fool and sit down. You’ve just proved his point.” To be fair, everyone is emotional about what they believe (even if they prefer to speak in terms of what they don’t believe), and most atheists have been burned by bad experiences with Christians and/or churches. Christians should seek to empathise with these emotions, not look down on them.
In debates between theists and atheists on youtube, facebook and other online forums, the comments that get the most ‘votes up’ on youtube or ‘likes’ on facebook or other forums are often the ones that ridicule another person’s comment. People feel good when their opponents are ridiculed and their position is vindicated. In fact, when Hitchens was asked why he spent so much time arguing against believers, he consistently described how he enjoyed being vindicated against his opponents. But people who are genuinely seeking the truth or honestly trying to educate people don’t laugh at people who reject what they have to say, they’re saddened by it. People who care about truth mourn when others reject it; people who just want to win, laugh at others in order to try and claim victory and exclude differing points of view.
I’ve been in countless online debates with atheists; I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent trying to “reason” with atheists on youtube and facebook. In my weaker moments I’ve responded to aggression with aggression, telling myself that their arguments deserve to be ridiculed, but it’s always pushed people away from engaging with Christianity. Atheists that take part in these debates consider their arguments to be self evidently strong arguments, and so dismissing them lightly gives them the impression that you’re willing to ignore self evident truth in order to hold onto what they consider to be a fairy tale. To them, we’re putting our fingers in our ears and singing la la la la, in the face of clear evidence.
In only when I’ve answered graciously and with respect that I’ve made progress in online conversations with atheists. Online debaters (on both sides) are generally open logic and argument, but only if they feel that they’ve been heard, and the weight of their argument has been felt. I now spend much more time asking questions to examine their assumptions, rather than repeating arguments from John Lennox or William Lane Craig which they’ve often already heard and dismissed. I’ve been surprised how easily ‘a gentle answer turns away wrath’ (Proverbs 15:1) and how much progress can be made if ‘when we are slandered, we answer kindly’ (1 Corinthians 4:13).
People say things in online debates that they would never say to someone’s face. It’s easy to ridicule someone online because you don't personally feel the hostility that it creates in the future, but it still creates hostility and often hardens people against your side of the debate. As I engage in youtube debates, I’m trying more and more to put myself in the other person’s position and understand why they’re so convinced of the strength of their argument(s), and it’s been much more fruitful. Keep in mind that they’ve probably spent a lot of time arguing with Christians who haven’t been as logical or reasonable as they would like, and they feel like their position is the only reasonable position to take. Above all, don’t respond in kind to verbal abuse. Take a deep breath, pray for them (not against them), and remember how Jesus responded to the ridicule of those who crucified him – by giving his life so that they might live.
Unfortunately this is seldom the case. While they’re often well practiced in rehearsing intellectual arguments that often do little more than point out why someone who has an a priori assumption that God doesn’t exist, is sceptical about the explanatory power of the theistic worldview; they’re far from emotionally detached from the view that they so passionately argue for. The most obvious expression of this is ad hominem arguments. People who are confident about their views and about themselves have no need to resort to name calling. Putting other people down is something that children do in order to feel better about themselves. And yet atheists in the public eye continue to defend “the place for mocking” people who disagree with them about the existence of God.
David Robertson (a Christian pastor and author) argues that while the new atheism has the appearance of being intellectual, it’s far more emotional, and this is why it’s so vitriolic. On one occasion, while he was speaking at Cambridge on how emotional the new atheism is, an atheist lecturer stood up and said “What do you mean we’re emotional? We’re not emotional! What are you talking about? You idiot! WE’RE NOT EMOTIONAL!” at which point another person in the audience interjected by saying “Shut up you fool and sit down. You’ve just proved his point.” To be fair, everyone is emotional about what they believe (even if they prefer to speak in terms of what they don’t believe), and most atheists have been burned by bad experiences with Christians and/or churches. Christians should seek to empathise with these emotions, not look down on them.
In debates between theists and atheists on youtube, facebook and other online forums, the comments that get the most ‘votes up’ on youtube or ‘likes’ on facebook or other forums are often the ones that ridicule another person’s comment. People feel good when their opponents are ridiculed and their position is vindicated. In fact, when Hitchens was asked why he spent so much time arguing against believers, he consistently described how he enjoyed being vindicated against his opponents. But people who are genuinely seeking the truth or honestly trying to educate people don’t laugh at people who reject what they have to say, they’re saddened by it. People who care about truth mourn when others reject it; people who just want to win, laugh at others in order to try and claim victory and exclude differing points of view.
I’ve been in countless online debates with atheists; I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent trying to “reason” with atheists on youtube and facebook. In my weaker moments I’ve responded to aggression with aggression, telling myself that their arguments deserve to be ridiculed, but it’s always pushed people away from engaging with Christianity. Atheists that take part in these debates consider their arguments to be self evidently strong arguments, and so dismissing them lightly gives them the impression that you’re willing to ignore self evident truth in order to hold onto what they consider to be a fairy tale. To them, we’re putting our fingers in our ears and singing la la la la, in the face of clear evidence.
In only when I’ve answered graciously and with respect that I’ve made progress in online conversations with atheists. Online debaters (on both sides) are generally open logic and argument, but only if they feel that they’ve been heard, and the weight of their argument has been felt. I now spend much more time asking questions to examine their assumptions, rather than repeating arguments from John Lennox or William Lane Craig which they’ve often already heard and dismissed. I’ve been surprised how easily ‘a gentle answer turns away wrath’ (Proverbs 15:1) and how much progress can be made if ‘when we are slandered, we answer kindly’ (1 Corinthians 4:13).
People say things in online debates that they would never say to someone’s face. It’s easy to ridicule someone online because you don't personally feel the hostility that it creates in the future, but it still creates hostility and often hardens people against your side of the debate. As I engage in youtube debates, I’m trying more and more to put myself in the other person’s position and understand why they’re so convinced of the strength of their argument(s), and it’s been much more fruitful. Keep in mind that they’ve probably spent a lot of time arguing with Christians who haven’t been as logical or reasonable as they would like, and they feel like their position is the only reasonable position to take. Above all, don’t respond in kind to verbal abuse. Take a deep breath, pray for them (not against them), and remember how Jesus responded to the ridicule of those who crucified him – by giving his life so that they might live.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Assuming What You're Trying to Prove
In argument and debate we’re often critical of circular arguments that assume what the argument is trying to prove/establish/argue for. This is the logical fallacy known as circular reasoning or begging the question. Arguments have to be linear: if we assume A, then B follows and therefore we can conclude C. But if you come to the conclusion C by assuming C, then you are making an assertion, not an argument. One of the most frustrating examples of this for atheists is when Christians argue that God exists because the Bible says that God exists. The reliability of the Bible as the word of God depends upon God’s existence – it’s assuming that God exists in order to conclude that God exists. Occasionally atheists make the equal and opposite fallacy of assuming that the Bible is always wrong because God doesn’t exist, though usually atheists will concede that the Bible is sometimes right on some things.
Recently however, atheists seem to have been persuaded by a circular argument which they continue to propagate in discussions and debates with theists. Atheists such as Daniel Dennett and Andy Thomson have written books that attempt to explain why people believe in God when no such God actually exists. The argument is that people will always try to attribute agency to things because our ancestors who did so realised that a sound and/or movement could be a predator to avoid, and so they survived and passed on their genes. Those who didn’t try to attribute an agent to the phenomenon that they observed were killed when there was a hostile agent, and so we’re genetically conditioned to look for agency. Therefore when we observe things that we can’t explain, the human mind needs to find an agent and so we say that God did it.
This argument has been used to counter the “god of the gaps” argument without having to close the gaps. When theists point out that naturalism is yet to explain things like the origin of the universe, the universal constants, the origin of life etc; atheists who follow Dennett or Thomson counter by arguing that it’s only because we’re genetically conditioned to look for agency that we point to God for an explanation. This argument however, proves too much, for Dennett, Thomson, and indeed every scientist in the world are driven by a curiosity for an explanation. Dismissing God or design or special creation etc because these explanations involve an agent is a fairly biased and somewhat arbitrary assumption in approaching the quest for an explanation. Practically speaking they are not explanations we can test and so we may not pursue them scientifically (methodological naturalism), but that doesn’t mean we can rule them out as explanations (philosophical naturalism). Until science can close the gaps, scientists who are continuously seeking explanations can’t just dismiss other explanations on the basis that people seek explanations involving agency.
But most disturbing of all is the circular reasoning behind this argument that atheists (who are generally quite critical of circular reasoning) fail to recognise. Proposing an explanation for why people believe in a god who doesn’t exist assumes that their god doesn’t exist. The argument is: God doesn’t exist, and so here’s the psychology of why people believe in god, and so therefore god doesn’t exist. It’s assuming the very thing that it’s trying to prove: God’s non-existence. In fact, when Andy Thomson was asked how he would answer someone who suggested that all of his evidence for the human propensity to believe in God only demonstrates that God created people in order to know him, he said that the best response was that of Christopher Hitchens: that it would mean that God let lots of people die before he revealed himself certain people (whom he described in derogatory terms). Aside from the fact that this is not an argument against the God of the Bible who punishes sin, but against the god of his imagination who punishes for no good reason; it’s also a logical fallacy known as the argument from personal incredulity: God can’t exist because I don’t want him to exist.
Atheists often criticise theists of circular reasoning and of believing because they want to believe; and yet this proposed psychology of belief based on circular reasoning and not believing because they don’t want to believe is currently being put forward as an argument that theists are supposed to take seriously. While believers can often be hypocritical in condemning sinners while they themselves are sinners, unbelievers can also be prone to hypocrisy and double standards. I take atheists seriously because they often appeal to reason and logic, but this is not a case in point. Atheism does not have the monopoly on reason and logic. Like theists, atheists can also be prone to thinking that an argument that supports their position is stronger than it actually is.
Recently however, atheists seem to have been persuaded by a circular argument which they continue to propagate in discussions and debates with theists. Atheists such as Daniel Dennett and Andy Thomson have written books that attempt to explain why people believe in God when no such God actually exists. The argument is that people will always try to attribute agency to things because our ancestors who did so realised that a sound and/or movement could be a predator to avoid, and so they survived and passed on their genes. Those who didn’t try to attribute an agent to the phenomenon that they observed were killed when there was a hostile agent, and so we’re genetically conditioned to look for agency. Therefore when we observe things that we can’t explain, the human mind needs to find an agent and so we say that God did it.
This argument has been used to counter the “god of the gaps” argument without having to close the gaps. When theists point out that naturalism is yet to explain things like the origin of the universe, the universal constants, the origin of life etc; atheists who follow Dennett or Thomson counter by arguing that it’s only because we’re genetically conditioned to look for agency that we point to God for an explanation. This argument however, proves too much, for Dennett, Thomson, and indeed every scientist in the world are driven by a curiosity for an explanation. Dismissing God or design or special creation etc because these explanations involve an agent is a fairly biased and somewhat arbitrary assumption in approaching the quest for an explanation. Practically speaking they are not explanations we can test and so we may not pursue them scientifically (methodological naturalism), but that doesn’t mean we can rule them out as explanations (philosophical naturalism). Until science can close the gaps, scientists who are continuously seeking explanations can’t just dismiss other explanations on the basis that people seek explanations involving agency.
But most disturbing of all is the circular reasoning behind this argument that atheists (who are generally quite critical of circular reasoning) fail to recognise. Proposing an explanation for why people believe in a god who doesn’t exist assumes that their god doesn’t exist. The argument is: God doesn’t exist, and so here’s the psychology of why people believe in god, and so therefore god doesn’t exist. It’s assuming the very thing that it’s trying to prove: God’s non-existence. In fact, when Andy Thomson was asked how he would answer someone who suggested that all of his evidence for the human propensity to believe in God only demonstrates that God created people in order to know him, he said that the best response was that of Christopher Hitchens: that it would mean that God let lots of people die before he revealed himself certain people (whom he described in derogatory terms). Aside from the fact that this is not an argument against the God of the Bible who punishes sin, but against the god of his imagination who punishes for no good reason; it’s also a logical fallacy known as the argument from personal incredulity: God can’t exist because I don’t want him to exist.
Atheists often criticise theists of circular reasoning and of believing because they want to believe; and yet this proposed psychology of belief based on circular reasoning and not believing because they don’t want to believe is currently being put forward as an argument that theists are supposed to take seriously. While believers can often be hypocritical in condemning sinners while they themselves are sinners, unbelievers can also be prone to hypocrisy and double standards. I take atheists seriously because they often appeal to reason and logic, but this is not a case in point. Atheism does not have the monopoly on reason and logic. Like theists, atheists can also be prone to thinking that an argument that supports their position is stronger than it actually is.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
The Problem of Evil and Psalm 137
The problem of evil and suffering has long been used as a reason to doubt and disbelieve in the existence of a good and powerful God. The argument is that either God can’t stop evil and suffering and so he isn’t powerful, or he won’t stop evil and suffering and so he isn’t good. In the past, this has thought to be such a powerful argument against theism that it has been called “the rock of atheism”. And this problem is felt with every instance of pain and suffering in the world. After the devastation of the 2004 tsunami, one reporter wrote that “If God is God, he’s not good. If God is good, he’s not God. You can’t have it both ways.”
However, this objection to theism has largely been abandoned as a “proof” of atheism. While it’s certainly true that a god who can’t stop evil and suffering cannot be powerful, it’s far from established that a God who doesn’t stop evil and suffering cannot be good. There are many reasons why a God who is good would allow evil and suffering (because he loves the perpetrators, because it deepens our appreciation of what is good, because to be free to love you have to be free to hate, etc.) and the burden of proof required to demonstrate that every reason ever suggested is “a bad reason” is simply too high.
Even if this burden of proof could be met, the argument still carries the assumption that God cannot have a good reason for allowing evil and suffering because we can’t think of one. The argument demands that God be big enough to blame for all the evil and suffering in the world, but not big enough to have reasons for allowing it to continue that we’re unaware of. As Tim Keller puts it: “If you have a God great and transcendent enough to be mad at because he hasn’t stopped evil and suffering in the world, then you have (at the same moment) a God great and transcendent enough to have good reasons for allowing it to continue that you can’t know. Indeed, you can’t have it both ways” (The Reason for God, p25).
On the existence of evil and suffering, the bible points us to three points in history: the beginning, the centre, and the end. At the beginning of history we see that there is evil and suffering in the world because we chose it. Our broken relationship with God affects our relationships with each other and with the world. However, in the centre of history we see that God doesn’t leave us in the evil and suffering that we chose, but enters into it in the man of Jesus, and bears the ultimate evil and suffering for us on the cross. And finally, the bible lifts our eyes to the end of history where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Revelation 21:4), and so we can consider our present suffering not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us (Romans 8:18).
In the parable of the weeds (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), Jesus explains why God hasn’t yet ended evil and suffering. God’s angels effectively ask him if they can go and put an end to evil and suffering in the world, but God tells them not to because in doing so they would be putting an end to all of us caught up in the evil and suffering of the world. God allows our evil to continue alongside our good, because he is patient with people not wanting anyone to perish (Ezekiel 18:23, 32; 33:11; 1 Timothy 2:3). But the Christian hope is that God will put an end to all evil and suffering, and right all the wrongs of human history.
Psalm 137 is an instance where one of the biblical authors wrestles with the problem of evil and suffering, giving us permission to do the same. God’s chosen city Zion has been destroyed, and God’s people are mocked for having faith in a God who would allow such evil and suffering to come upon them (Psalm 137:1-3). However, this causes the Psalmist to lift his eyes to the place where God had chosen to place his name and dwell with his people, and keep this as his highest joy (Psalm 137:4-6). He prays that God would remember the evil and suffering that has come upon his people (Psalm 137:7), and he rejoices in the hope that justice will be done and their evil and suffering will come to an end: “Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (Psalm 137:8-9).
Most people are shocked by the way this Psalm ends, and a number of atheists point to it as proof that the bible is immoral and therefore can’t be used as a basis for ethics. But this accusation only sticks, if the Psalm is read as Jewish scripture rather than as Christian scripture. A Jewish understanding of this Psalm reads it as a prayer for God to repay Babylon for what they have done (Psalm 137:8), even dashing their infants against the rocks (Psalm 137:9). But a Christian understanding (known as biblical theology) places it in the story arc of the bible: the tale of two cities beginning with the offspring of the woman and the offspring of the serpent (Genesis 3:15), escalating to the righteous and the wicked (in the law), characterised by the wise and the foolish (in the wisdom literature), described as the wheat and the weeds (above), and personified by Israel and Babylon (Revelation 17-19).
In this biblical theological framework, the “Daughter of Babylon” does not refer to the descendents of the Psalmists tormentors, but the enemies of God “doomed to destruction”, for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12) whom Jesus has made a public spectacle of, triumphing over them by the cross (Colossians 2:15). Their progeny that remains in the world is the evil and suffering that we experience until Jesus returns, for the last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Corinthians 15:26). Understood as Christian scripture, the one who seizes the infants (the future) of the “Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction” is Jesus, and on the cross he “dashes them against the rocks”, putting an end to the reign of sin and death in the world.
In a public debate in 2010, Dan Barker asked “should a Christian be happy that the bible says to take little babies and dash them against the stones or do you think that verse is a bad verse in the bible which should be ignored”? The obvious answer is that this verse needs to be read in context, since it clearly doesn’t say that we are to kill babies, but that there is one who will put an end to the enemies of God, who – in the biblical theological context – are the enemies of sin and death. According to the New Testament, sin gives birth to death (James 1:15), and this is precisely what Jesus destroys by his death on the cross and his resurrection from the grave. Recently I read a blog written by someone who loved Psalm 137 “despite its violent end”. While this is perfectly understandable, I love Psalm 137 because of the way it ends: lifting our eyes from the evil and suffering that we experience in the world to the final day when there will be no more sin, or any of the things that sin gives birth to: death, mourning, crying or pain. Until then we are entangled in a world where evil and suffering is allowed to continue because though we are more wicked than we dared believe, we are more loved than we dared hope.
However, this objection to theism has largely been abandoned as a “proof” of atheism. While it’s certainly true that a god who can’t stop evil and suffering cannot be powerful, it’s far from established that a God who doesn’t stop evil and suffering cannot be good. There are many reasons why a God who is good would allow evil and suffering (because he loves the perpetrators, because it deepens our appreciation of what is good, because to be free to love you have to be free to hate, etc.) and the burden of proof required to demonstrate that every reason ever suggested is “a bad reason” is simply too high.
Even if this burden of proof could be met, the argument still carries the assumption that God cannot have a good reason for allowing evil and suffering because we can’t think of one. The argument demands that God be big enough to blame for all the evil and suffering in the world, but not big enough to have reasons for allowing it to continue that we’re unaware of. As Tim Keller puts it: “If you have a God great and transcendent enough to be mad at because he hasn’t stopped evil and suffering in the world, then you have (at the same moment) a God great and transcendent enough to have good reasons for allowing it to continue that you can’t know. Indeed, you can’t have it both ways” (The Reason for God, p25).
On the existence of evil and suffering, the bible points us to three points in history: the beginning, the centre, and the end. At the beginning of history we see that there is evil and suffering in the world because we chose it. Our broken relationship with God affects our relationships with each other and with the world. However, in the centre of history we see that God doesn’t leave us in the evil and suffering that we chose, but enters into it in the man of Jesus, and bears the ultimate evil and suffering for us on the cross. And finally, the bible lifts our eyes to the end of history where there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Revelation 21:4), and so we can consider our present suffering not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us (Romans 8:18).
In the parable of the weeds (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), Jesus explains why God hasn’t yet ended evil and suffering. God’s angels effectively ask him if they can go and put an end to evil and suffering in the world, but God tells them not to because in doing so they would be putting an end to all of us caught up in the evil and suffering of the world. God allows our evil to continue alongside our good, because he is patient with people not wanting anyone to perish (Ezekiel 18:23, 32; 33:11; 1 Timothy 2:3). But the Christian hope is that God will put an end to all evil and suffering, and right all the wrongs of human history.
Psalm 137 is an instance where one of the biblical authors wrestles with the problem of evil and suffering, giving us permission to do the same. God’s chosen city Zion has been destroyed, and God’s people are mocked for having faith in a God who would allow such evil and suffering to come upon them (Psalm 137:1-3). However, this causes the Psalmist to lift his eyes to the place where God had chosen to place his name and dwell with his people, and keep this as his highest joy (Psalm 137:4-6). He prays that God would remember the evil and suffering that has come upon his people (Psalm 137:7), and he rejoices in the hope that justice will be done and their evil and suffering will come to an end: “Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction, happy is the one who repays you according to what you have done to us. Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (Psalm 137:8-9).
Most people are shocked by the way this Psalm ends, and a number of atheists point to it as proof that the bible is immoral and therefore can’t be used as a basis for ethics. But this accusation only sticks, if the Psalm is read as Jewish scripture rather than as Christian scripture. A Jewish understanding of this Psalm reads it as a prayer for God to repay Babylon for what they have done (Psalm 137:8), even dashing their infants against the rocks (Psalm 137:9). But a Christian understanding (known as biblical theology) places it in the story arc of the bible: the tale of two cities beginning with the offspring of the woman and the offspring of the serpent (Genesis 3:15), escalating to the righteous and the wicked (in the law), characterised by the wise and the foolish (in the wisdom literature), described as the wheat and the weeds (above), and personified by Israel and Babylon (Revelation 17-19).
In this biblical theological framework, the “Daughter of Babylon” does not refer to the descendents of the Psalmists tormentors, but the enemies of God “doomed to destruction”, for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Ephesians 6:12) whom Jesus has made a public spectacle of, triumphing over them by the cross (Colossians 2:15). Their progeny that remains in the world is the evil and suffering that we experience until Jesus returns, for the last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Corinthians 15:26). Understood as Christian scripture, the one who seizes the infants (the future) of the “Daughter of Babylon, doomed to destruction” is Jesus, and on the cross he “dashes them against the rocks”, putting an end to the reign of sin and death in the world.
In a public debate in 2010, Dan Barker asked “should a Christian be happy that the bible says to take little babies and dash them against the stones or do you think that verse is a bad verse in the bible which should be ignored”? The obvious answer is that this verse needs to be read in context, since it clearly doesn’t say that we are to kill babies, but that there is one who will put an end to the enemies of God, who – in the biblical theological context – are the enemies of sin and death. According to the New Testament, sin gives birth to death (James 1:15), and this is precisely what Jesus destroys by his death on the cross and his resurrection from the grave. Recently I read a blog written by someone who loved Psalm 137 “despite its violent end”. While this is perfectly understandable, I love Psalm 137 because of the way it ends: lifting our eyes from the evil and suffering that we experience in the world to the final day when there will be no more sin, or any of the things that sin gives birth to: death, mourning, crying or pain. Until then we are entangled in a world where evil and suffering is allowed to continue because though we are more wicked than we dared believe, we are more loved than we dared hope.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
The Absence of Evidence
Having outlined five arguments for theism (the last five blogs), there remains at least two arguments for atheism that need to be addressed; the absence of evidence (this blog) and the problem of evil (next blog). In a debate with William Lane Craig, Victor Stenger makes the argument that if God exists, then we should have evidence for God where we do not have such evidence, and absence of this evidence is evidence of God’s absence. A seemingly strong argument on the surface, but one that is exposed as fairly weak when examined.
First of all, the type of evidence that Stenger (and all naturalists) seeks is scientific evidence. Rather than seeking enough evidence to believe (like the historical evidence for Jesus’ resurrection), naturalists demand the hard scientific evidence required to know that God exists. However, if God were to bow to their command and allow scientists to put God in a test tube, this would essentially nullify the biblical doctrine of salvation by faith (Romans 3:21-26). If God exists and has chosen to save his people by their faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection, then scientifically proving it would mean that we would no longer have faith, but knowledge. If the bible really is God’s revelation of himself, and the bible describes a salvation by faith, then a scientific proof of God’s existence would nullify the means by which he has chosen to save people from their sin.
Secondly, the demand for scientific evidence carries the assumption that the only evidence that counts is scientific evidence. While science has greatly increased our knowledge of the universe and continues to do so, it’s not as if no one knew anything before science took off. Science provides a brilliant way to gain knowledge, but it’s not the only way and it doesn’t have the monopoly on reason. The move from methodological naturalism (assuming that a miracle won’t happen in a scientific experiment) to philosophical naturalism (assuming that miracles have never happened and can never happen in the future) is an over-reach of science; instead of realising that science limits itself to what can be scientifically tested, it’s declaring that the only knowledge we can have is within the realm of scientific investigation. This excludes the possibility that God could have miraculously revealed himself to us, before it considers the evidence for the case that he did reveal himself to us in history. It’s an assumption that the supernatural doesn’t exist because it doesn’t naturally occur.
Thirdly, the proposition on which this argument depends – an absence of evidence is evidence of absence – is demonstrably false: it cannot be applied to things outside of our scope of observation. No one uses the fact that we have an absence of evidence for aliens, as evidence that we are alone in the universe. This is the inherent problem with scientific induction: you never have all the evidence, and so to say that something doesn’t exist because we haven’t scientifically observed it yet assumes that it cannot exist beyond our scientific observation. This was famously observed by David Hume who argued that if you’ve only ever seen white swans, you cannot conclude that all swans are white, but only that all the swans that you’ve seen are white, because there may be black swans that you haven’t seen yet. If you’ve only ever seen the natural, then you cannot conclude that there is no supernatural simply because you haven’t seen any. The argument that an absence of evidence is evidence of absence, assumes the very thing that it’s trying to prove: that if we can’t see it then it doesn’t exist.
Fourthly, it assumes that atheism wins by default, that is, if we reject the arguments for theism, then atheism is the logical (if not the only) choice. But atheism is not the default position, agnosticism is. If believing in God were a hair colour, then agnosticism would be bald, not atheism; for agnosticism holds zero claims about God, but atheism holds the claim that “there’s probably no god”. Moreover, it’s quite hypocritical for someone who thinks that atheism should win by default to suggest that an absence of evidence is evidence of absence. Theists believe that God exists based on the historical evidence that God has revealed himself to us, but atheists believe that “there’s probably no god” based on a perceived lack of evidence. There is simply no reason to move from an impartial agnosticism towards a stronger (or more militant) atheism, especially if you’re seeking to follow the evidence.
The absence of evidence “argument” is an argument from silence. It’s like the argument that because we don’t have archaeological evidence of the exodus then it didn’t really happen. Despite the fact that archaeological is fragmentary at best, this argument demands archaeological evidence for a nomadic group of people who never stayed in one place for a long period of time, to have survived for over three thousand years in the brutal conditions of a middle eastern desert. If God exists, then the only way you could ever know is if he revealed himself to us. And if he is the one revealing himself to us, then we cannot demand that he reveal himself to us in a scientifically provable way. In the end, this argument is not an argument against the God of the bible, but against a god who would fit in a test tube.
First of all, the type of evidence that Stenger (and all naturalists) seeks is scientific evidence. Rather than seeking enough evidence to believe (like the historical evidence for Jesus’ resurrection), naturalists demand the hard scientific evidence required to know that God exists. However, if God were to bow to their command and allow scientists to put God in a test tube, this would essentially nullify the biblical doctrine of salvation by faith (Romans 3:21-26). If God exists and has chosen to save his people by their faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection, then scientifically proving it would mean that we would no longer have faith, but knowledge. If the bible really is God’s revelation of himself, and the bible describes a salvation by faith, then a scientific proof of God’s existence would nullify the means by which he has chosen to save people from their sin.
Secondly, the demand for scientific evidence carries the assumption that the only evidence that counts is scientific evidence. While science has greatly increased our knowledge of the universe and continues to do so, it’s not as if no one knew anything before science took off. Science provides a brilliant way to gain knowledge, but it’s not the only way and it doesn’t have the monopoly on reason. The move from methodological naturalism (assuming that a miracle won’t happen in a scientific experiment) to philosophical naturalism (assuming that miracles have never happened and can never happen in the future) is an over-reach of science; instead of realising that science limits itself to what can be scientifically tested, it’s declaring that the only knowledge we can have is within the realm of scientific investigation. This excludes the possibility that God could have miraculously revealed himself to us, before it considers the evidence for the case that he did reveal himself to us in history. It’s an assumption that the supernatural doesn’t exist because it doesn’t naturally occur.
Thirdly, the proposition on which this argument depends – an absence of evidence is evidence of absence – is demonstrably false: it cannot be applied to things outside of our scope of observation. No one uses the fact that we have an absence of evidence for aliens, as evidence that we are alone in the universe. This is the inherent problem with scientific induction: you never have all the evidence, and so to say that something doesn’t exist because we haven’t scientifically observed it yet assumes that it cannot exist beyond our scientific observation. This was famously observed by David Hume who argued that if you’ve only ever seen white swans, you cannot conclude that all swans are white, but only that all the swans that you’ve seen are white, because there may be black swans that you haven’t seen yet. If you’ve only ever seen the natural, then you cannot conclude that there is no supernatural simply because you haven’t seen any. The argument that an absence of evidence is evidence of absence, assumes the very thing that it’s trying to prove: that if we can’t see it then it doesn’t exist.
Fourthly, it assumes that atheism wins by default, that is, if we reject the arguments for theism, then atheism is the logical (if not the only) choice. But atheism is not the default position, agnosticism is. If believing in God were a hair colour, then agnosticism would be bald, not atheism; for agnosticism holds zero claims about God, but atheism holds the claim that “there’s probably no god”. Moreover, it’s quite hypocritical for someone who thinks that atheism should win by default to suggest that an absence of evidence is evidence of absence. Theists believe that God exists based on the historical evidence that God has revealed himself to us, but atheists believe that “there’s probably no god” based on a perceived lack of evidence. There is simply no reason to move from an impartial agnosticism towards a stronger (or more militant) atheism, especially if you’re seeking to follow the evidence.
The absence of evidence “argument” is an argument from silence. It’s like the argument that because we don’t have archaeological evidence of the exodus then it didn’t really happen. Despite the fact that archaeological is fragmentary at best, this argument demands archaeological evidence for a nomadic group of people who never stayed in one place for a long period of time, to have survived for over three thousand years in the brutal conditions of a middle eastern desert. If God exists, then the only way you could ever know is if he revealed himself to us. And if he is the one revealing himself to us, then we cannot demand that he reveal himself to us in a scientifically provable way. In the end, this argument is not an argument against the God of the bible, but against a god who would fit in a test tube.
Monday, June 17, 2013
The Resurrection Shaped Hole in History
So far, my arguments from the origin of the universe, the fine-tuning of the universe, the origin of life and human nature have only really been for a god of the gaps. There are significant gaps that atheism (and naturalism in particular) can’t explain and so while the existence of God can’t be proved, it would certainly explain a lot. However, even if one is persuaded that God exists, how do you know which religion is right? Many faiths claim that their scriptures are true because their scriptures say that their scriptures are true, but this is circular reasoning that leads to conclusions that are incompatible with the conclusions of other faiths that are made on exactly the same basis. Even if we are convinced that God exists, how can we possibly know what God is like? How can we ever know the truth about God?
Jesus was one of many who claimed to speak the truth about God, but why should we believe him rather than any other self proclaimed “prophet of God”? There is only one reason: Jesus’ resurrection. If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, then he can be dismissed along with everyone else who claimed to be the voice of God. But if he actually rose from the dead, after claiming that that God would raise him from the dead; then you have to listen to what he says about God, including which scriptures God has revealed himself through. Christianity itself teaches that if the resurrection is false then Christianity is a lie (1 Corinthians 15:14-15). The resurrection is the pillar on which Christianity stands or falls, if Jesus rose from the dead then he really is the Lord, if he didn’t then he’s either a liar or a lunatic.
But how do we know if Jesus actually rose from the dead? Surely such an incredible claim has an incredible burden of proof. Even some of those who followed him before his crucifixion didn’t believe that he was raised from the dead on the testimony of others (John 20:24-25). Moreover, if the bible is the only source of evidence that Jesus rose from the dead then we have returned to the circular argument that the bible is true because the bible says that the bible is true. However, Christianity is not just a philosophy grounded in a book, but a movement grounded in history. While it’s difficult to disprove the resurrection in the 21st century, the claim that Jesus rose from the dead was a very falsifiable claim in the 1st century. Early opponents of Christianity fought hard stop the movement from gaining momentum, even to the point of killing its advocates. If they could have pointed to Jesus’ body they would have stopped it dead (literally), but none did.
In the 21st century, the resurrection can’t be proved or easily disproved, but it would certainly explain a lot, so much so, that historians talk about a resurrection shaped hole in 1st century history. If the resurrection is false, how do we explain such a rapid growth of a church that was founded on the historical claim that Jesus rose from the dead, when it could have been so easily falsified, and when it was so unexpected by those who followed Jesus before he died (Matthew 28:17; Mark 16:8; Luke 24:21-23, 40-41; John 20:25). How do we explain the incredible transformation of the apostles who fled before the authorities when Jesus was with them (Matthew 26:56; Mark 14:49-50) and then stood up to the authorities shortly afterwards despite the fact that their leader in whom they had placed their hope wasn’t physically present with them (Acts 4:1-13; 5:17-32)?
The apostles were those who claimed to have seen the risen Jesus (1 Corinthians 9:1). These people were in a unique position to know for sure whether or not Jesus actually rose from the dead; if it was a hoax, they were the ones who made it up. And yet there is strong historical evidence both within the bible (Acts 7:54-60; 12:1-2) and outside of the bible (1 Clement 5:2; Shepherd of Hermas 27:2) that the apostles died proclaiming the resurrection. Who dies for something that they know is a lie? If the resurrection is false, then this is very different from martyrs who die for something that they genuinely believe in, not only would they disbelieve it but they would know for a fact that it was false, for they themselves made it up. However, those who were in a unique position to know for sure whether or not Jesus rose from the dead staked their lives on it. These people were certainly less educated than we are today, but they weren’t stupid. They knew that people don’t come back from the dead, they were so convinced of this that they had trouble believing it even when face to face with the resurrected Christ (Luke 24:41).
The other way to deny Jesus’ resurrection is to deny that he died on the cross. However, this is more tortuous to maintain since it requires that Roman soldiers, who were professional killers very familiar with death, failed to kill Jesus, mistaking injuries that only took three days to heal, for death. Despite the fact that the central claim of Christianity is so incredible, there is strong historical evidence for Jesus’ death and his resurrection. And if Jesus rose from the dead, then we have compelling evidence not only that God exists, but that he has revealed himself to us in the Old Testament that Jesus taught (Matthew 5:17-19; Luke 24:25), and the New Testament that Jesus commissioned the apostles to write (John 16:12-15). In the end, this is the sole reason that I’m a Christian; because I’m persuaded by the historical evidence of Jesus’ resurrection.
Jesus was one of many who claimed to speak the truth about God, but why should we believe him rather than any other self proclaimed “prophet of God”? There is only one reason: Jesus’ resurrection. If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, then he can be dismissed along with everyone else who claimed to be the voice of God. But if he actually rose from the dead, after claiming that that God would raise him from the dead; then you have to listen to what he says about God, including which scriptures God has revealed himself through. Christianity itself teaches that if the resurrection is false then Christianity is a lie (1 Corinthians 15:14-15). The resurrection is the pillar on which Christianity stands or falls, if Jesus rose from the dead then he really is the Lord, if he didn’t then he’s either a liar or a lunatic.
But how do we know if Jesus actually rose from the dead? Surely such an incredible claim has an incredible burden of proof. Even some of those who followed him before his crucifixion didn’t believe that he was raised from the dead on the testimony of others (John 20:24-25). Moreover, if the bible is the only source of evidence that Jesus rose from the dead then we have returned to the circular argument that the bible is true because the bible says that the bible is true. However, Christianity is not just a philosophy grounded in a book, but a movement grounded in history. While it’s difficult to disprove the resurrection in the 21st century, the claim that Jesus rose from the dead was a very falsifiable claim in the 1st century. Early opponents of Christianity fought hard stop the movement from gaining momentum, even to the point of killing its advocates. If they could have pointed to Jesus’ body they would have stopped it dead (literally), but none did.
In the 21st century, the resurrection can’t be proved or easily disproved, but it would certainly explain a lot, so much so, that historians talk about a resurrection shaped hole in 1st century history. If the resurrection is false, how do we explain such a rapid growth of a church that was founded on the historical claim that Jesus rose from the dead, when it could have been so easily falsified, and when it was so unexpected by those who followed Jesus before he died (Matthew 28:17; Mark 16:8; Luke 24:21-23, 40-41; John 20:25). How do we explain the incredible transformation of the apostles who fled before the authorities when Jesus was with them (Matthew 26:56; Mark 14:49-50) and then stood up to the authorities shortly afterwards despite the fact that their leader in whom they had placed their hope wasn’t physically present with them (Acts 4:1-13; 5:17-32)?
The apostles were those who claimed to have seen the risen Jesus (1 Corinthians 9:1). These people were in a unique position to know for sure whether or not Jesus actually rose from the dead; if it was a hoax, they were the ones who made it up. And yet there is strong historical evidence both within the bible (Acts 7:54-60; 12:1-2) and outside of the bible (1 Clement 5:2; Shepherd of Hermas 27:2) that the apostles died proclaiming the resurrection. Who dies for something that they know is a lie? If the resurrection is false, then this is very different from martyrs who die for something that they genuinely believe in, not only would they disbelieve it but they would know for a fact that it was false, for they themselves made it up. However, those who were in a unique position to know for sure whether or not Jesus rose from the dead staked their lives on it. These people were certainly less educated than we are today, but they weren’t stupid. They knew that people don’t come back from the dead, they were so convinced of this that they had trouble believing it even when face to face with the resurrected Christ (Luke 24:41).
The other way to deny Jesus’ resurrection is to deny that he died on the cross. However, this is more tortuous to maintain since it requires that Roman soldiers, who were professional killers very familiar with death, failed to kill Jesus, mistaking injuries that only took three days to heal, for death. Despite the fact that the central claim of Christianity is so incredible, there is strong historical evidence for Jesus’ death and his resurrection. And if Jesus rose from the dead, then we have compelling evidence not only that God exists, but that he has revealed himself to us in the Old Testament that Jesus taught (Matthew 5:17-19; Luke 24:25), and the New Testament that Jesus commissioned the apostles to write (John 16:12-15). In the end, this is the sole reason that I’m a Christian; because I’m persuaded by the historical evidence of Jesus’ resurrection.
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