I'll begin by quoting Reppert's entire post (for the sake of context) before commenting:
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You die a faithful believer, you are ushered into heaven, and as you begin to sing your song in the heavenly choir, you notice the people in the fires of hell, suffering eternal torment wailing and gnashing their teeth. Your initial reaction is to
A) Feel sorry for them, and ask, as Lucy did concerning the Dwarves in the Last Battle, what can be done for the poor wretches.
B) Sing louder, praising God that while God's glory is demonstrated in the just punishment of the wicked, you reflect on the wonderful graciousness of your own salvation, that you were spared, by grace, the punishment that you otherwise would have received.
I'm A all the way, which makes me a lousy Calvinist.
This is the passage from the Last Battle.
“Aslan,” said Lucy through her tears, “could you — will you — do something for these poor Dwarfs?
“Dearest,” said Aslan, “I will show you both what I can, and what I cannot, do.” He came close to the Dwarfs and gave a low growl: low, but it set all the air shaking. But the Dwarfs said to one another, “Hear that? That’s the gang at the other end of the stable. Trying to frighten us. They do it with a machine of some kind. Don’t take any notice. They won’t take us in again!”
Aslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs’ knees: pies and tongues and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand. But it wasn’t much use. They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and third said he’d found a raw cabbage leaf. And they raised the golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of trough that a donkey’s been at! Never thought we’d come to this.”
But soon every Dwarf began suspecting that every other Dwarf had found something nicer than he had, and they started grabbing and snatching, and went on to quarreling, till in a few minutes there was a free fight and all the good food was smeared on their faces and clothes or trodden under foot. But when at least they sat down to nurse their black eyes and their bleeding nose, they all said:
“Well, at any rate there’s no Humbug here. We haven’t let anyone take us in. The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs.”
“You see,” said Aslan. “They will not let us help them. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.
This is the only conception of hell that has ever made any sense to me. But perhaps there is another option Aslan isn't considering here. Maybe Aslan can perform and act of irresistible grace and convert the dwarfs into dwarfs who are for Aslan as well as for the dwarfs, and can release them from the prison of their own minds. Or predestined that they never get into that state of mind in the first place. If either of those is a plausible alternative, then Aslan's reply to Lucy collapses.
http://dangerousidea.blogspot.com/2009/06/hell-calvinism-and-those-wretched.html
1.It isn’t clear to me why Reppert singles out Calvinism on the attitude of the saints towards the fate of the damned.
I don’t think Calvin had a fundamentally different view of hell than Wesley or Moody or Charles Fuller or Charles Stanley or W. A. Criswell or Robert Bellarmine, &c.
A Calvinist believes that God predestined the damned to be in hell, but Calvinism doesn’t have a distinctive view of what hell like. Supralapsarian Calvinism has a theodicean explanation for hell, but that doesn’t affect what hell is like.
As for the attitude of the saints towards the damned, does Reppert think that Calvinism has a unique position on this issue? To my knowledge, that’s not the case.
Mind you, it’s fine with me if Reppert wants to use Calvinism as the standard of comparison. But if, in this case, he’s picking on Calvinism because he thinks it represents a unique and uniquely repellent view of hell, then I’d be curious to know his source of information.
2.There’s the addition question of what damnatory model Reppert is targeting. Literal flames? Actual gnashing of teeth?
In my opinion, this is picture language.
3.Is hell a torture chamber? Is that the model he’s targeting?
I don’t think you can infer that from the picturesque descriptions of Scripture.
4.As far as I can see, what makes hell hellish is not the place, but the people. If there is an element of “torment” in hell, it’s not because the damned are tormented by their hellish surroundings, but because the damned are tormented by their hellish companions.
5.I’d add that people who have the best of everything can be perfectly wretched.
6.Apropos (4)-5), I have no particular reason to think that hell is uniformly one way or the other. I think it’s unending, and I think that it’s a terribly despairing way to spend eternity–but beyond that I don’t assume that all the damned have the same experience.
7.Then there’s the further assumption that the saints are specifically aware of the damned. Once again, though, I think that gets carried away with picture language.
Which view of hell is Reppert targeting? A kind of zoo which the saints go on tours for the entertainment value?
If we clear away the figurative window-dressing, to what extent would the saints even be aware of the damned? Speaking for myself, I doubt they have any direct awareness of the damned.
And I think their specific knowledge of the damned would be severely limited. Of all the billions of human beings who ever lived and died, the fraction that you and I are individually aware of is infinitesimal. It comes down to two tiny little groups: celebrities and personal acquaintances.
In their case, I’d only be obliquely aware of them in the negative sense that I’d be aware of their absence. I wouldn’t see them in heaven. I’d register the fact that they are missing.
8.I’m also not sure why I’d have to have the same attitude towards the handful of the damned I even know about.
There’s no antecedent reason, as far as I can see, why I should feel exactly the same way about Josef Mengele as I would about the classmate I barely knew in high school.
So the initial problem with Reppert’s question is that it’s staggering under a load of dubious assumptions–assumptions which skew the preferred answer.
9.Having said all that, I’d add that one of the refrains running through the pages of Scripture is “How Long, O Lord?” Throughout the Bible there’s a yearning for divine justice.
If some of us can’t identify with that yearning, it’s because we’ve been blessed to lead a pretty charmed existence. But if, instead of sweet, girlish little Lucy, we’re talking about a survivor of a concentration camp–and if, instead of cute little dwarves, we’re talking about Josef Megele, then the tearful sentiments expressed by Lucy are a decadent luxury which only the pampered few can indulge while they stroll through the gardens of Versailles.
Monday, June 08, 2009
The trouble for Calvinism
“The trouble I see for Calvinism is the fact that all over Scripture you find God saying he wants everyone to be saved, that he sent Christ for everyone, that he grieves when people are lost, and that he loves every person.”
http://dangerousidea.blogspot.com/2009/06/trouble-i-see-for-calvinism-is-fact.html
If that’s a problem for Calvinism, then just about every other theological tradition is also in trouble. Every theological tradition which regards the Bible as, in some degree, a rule of faith, has its prooftexts–whether we’re talking about Calvinism or Arminianism or Mormonism, or universalism or annihilationism, or open theism, &c. Every opposing position appeals to the “language of Scripture.”
So, what we need is a harmonistic principle.
“John 3:16 is just one example of this type of verse.”
You have to exegete that verse. What does “kosmos” mean in Johannine usage. If you read Lincoln’s commentary on John, or if you read the entry on “kosmos” in the Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, you’ll see that “kosmos” doesn’t mean “everyone.”
Indeed, it’s obvious in a passage like 1 Jn 5:19 that “kosmos” doesn’t mean everyone since it is set in antithetical contrast to Christians.
The “proper use of language” requires us to consider authorial usage.
“Calvinists and Arminians (anti-Calvinists) teach their children to sing the song "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so" without knowing whether God has determined that that child is going to be saved or lost. Is the song unbiblical?”
i) Reformed theology doesn’t have a uniform position on the fate of children who die young. In fact, there are about 5 or 6 different positions represented in different Reformed theologians.
ii) Wesley believed in infant baptism. The original rationale for infant baptism (in Latin theology and its successors) was to wash away the stain of Adam’s sin.
iii) Quoting a popular nursery rhyme is not a serious way to frame the issue. That has nothing to do with the proper language of Scripture.
“But if one of those children in the choir goes to hell, and in the final analysis the only reason that child ended up in hell was because God sovereignly decreed that the child should go to hell, then were all the claims that God loved that child accurate?”
That wouldn’t be the only reason. If, ex hypothesi, a child goes to hell when he dies (and this is not a settled issue in Reformed theology), it would be because he was stained by Adam’s sin.
“It strikes me as inconsistent with the proper use of the word ‘love’ to maintain this.”
The proper use of love in whose usage? The Bible or a nursery rhyme?
“Of course you can dodge these considerations by saying that the passages that say that God loves every person really only mean that God loves every member of the Elect.”
If you’re referring to Jn 3:16, this passages doesn’t say that God loves “everyone.”
If you’re referring to a nursery rhyme, who cares? Is Mother Goose our Bible?
“I think this does violence to the passages.”
What does violence to Biblical passages is when you don’t bother to examine authorial usage. When you don’t make allowance for anthropomorphic usage.
The Bible often depicts God in metaphorical terms, viz., God is a shepherd.
“I think you can only have a complete biblical case for Calvinism if you not only provide passages that support sovereignty, but also provide a plausible explanation for passages that imply a universal salvific intent. Otherwise, we should at least admit that the Bible doesn't adjudicate the Calvinist question.”
i) Calvinists have been doing that for some time now.
ii) Moreover, the objection cuts both ways. A universalist needs to provide a plausible explanation for passages which imply that only a subset of humanity will be saved.
“It's a simple question for Calvinists. Does God love those whom he reprobates? The most interesting Calvinists responses here, I believe, are the ones that affirm that God loves those he reprobates. I will be following up and looking at responses later.”
There's no received position within Calvinism on this issue. Different Calvinists come down on different sides of the issue. For example:
http://paulhelmsdeep.blogspot.com/2009/02/language-and-theology-of-free-offer.html
http://www.apuritansmind.com/Arminianism/NicoleRogerUniversalCallDefiniteAtonement.htm
http://www.opc.org/GA/free_offer.html
http://dangerousidea.blogspot.com/2009/06/trouble-i-see-for-calvinism-is-fact.html
If that’s a problem for Calvinism, then just about every other theological tradition is also in trouble. Every theological tradition which regards the Bible as, in some degree, a rule of faith, has its prooftexts–whether we’re talking about Calvinism or Arminianism or Mormonism, or universalism or annihilationism, or open theism, &c. Every opposing position appeals to the “language of Scripture.”
So, what we need is a harmonistic principle.
“John 3:16 is just one example of this type of verse.”
You have to exegete that verse. What does “kosmos” mean in Johannine usage. If you read Lincoln’s commentary on John, or if you read the entry on “kosmos” in the Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament, you’ll see that “kosmos” doesn’t mean “everyone.”
Indeed, it’s obvious in a passage like 1 Jn 5:19 that “kosmos” doesn’t mean everyone since it is set in antithetical contrast to Christians.
The “proper use of language” requires us to consider authorial usage.
“Calvinists and Arminians (anti-Calvinists) teach their children to sing the song "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so" without knowing whether God has determined that that child is going to be saved or lost. Is the song unbiblical?”
i) Reformed theology doesn’t have a uniform position on the fate of children who die young. In fact, there are about 5 or 6 different positions represented in different Reformed theologians.
ii) Wesley believed in infant baptism. The original rationale for infant baptism (in Latin theology and its successors) was to wash away the stain of Adam’s sin.
iii) Quoting a popular nursery rhyme is not a serious way to frame the issue. That has nothing to do with the proper language of Scripture.
“But if one of those children in the choir goes to hell, and in the final analysis the only reason that child ended up in hell was because God sovereignly decreed that the child should go to hell, then were all the claims that God loved that child accurate?”
That wouldn’t be the only reason. If, ex hypothesi, a child goes to hell when he dies (and this is not a settled issue in Reformed theology), it would be because he was stained by Adam’s sin.
“It strikes me as inconsistent with the proper use of the word ‘love’ to maintain this.”
The proper use of love in whose usage? The Bible or a nursery rhyme?
“Of course you can dodge these considerations by saying that the passages that say that God loves every person really only mean that God loves every member of the Elect.”
If you’re referring to Jn 3:16, this passages doesn’t say that God loves “everyone.”
If you’re referring to a nursery rhyme, who cares? Is Mother Goose our Bible?
“I think this does violence to the passages.”
What does violence to Biblical passages is when you don’t bother to examine authorial usage. When you don’t make allowance for anthropomorphic usage.
The Bible often depicts God in metaphorical terms, viz., God is a shepherd.
“I think you can only have a complete biblical case for Calvinism if you not only provide passages that support sovereignty, but also provide a plausible explanation for passages that imply a universal salvific intent. Otherwise, we should at least admit that the Bible doesn't adjudicate the Calvinist question.”
i) Calvinists have been doing that for some time now.
ii) Moreover, the objection cuts both ways. A universalist needs to provide a plausible explanation for passages which imply that only a subset of humanity will be saved.
“It's a simple question for Calvinists. Does God love those whom he reprobates? The most interesting Calvinists responses here, I believe, are the ones that affirm that God loves those he reprobates. I will be following up and looking at responses later.”
There's no received position within Calvinism on this issue. Different Calvinists come down on different sides of the issue. For example:
http://paulhelmsdeep.blogspot.com/2009/02/language-and-theology-of-free-offer.html
http://www.apuritansmind.com/Arminianism/NicoleRogerUniversalCallDefiniteAtonement.htm
http://www.opc.org/GA/free_offer.html
Betting on a closed future
I’ve been preoccupied with other issues, so now I’ll return to an old thread:
http://www.arminianchronicles.com/2009/04/determinism-and-choosing-otherwise.html
“I don't believe I am equivocating; given determinism, a person can’t choose otherwise and if one is a determinist, they can’t consistently think they can choose otherwise. I don't think the epistemic sense of ‘possible’ reconciles determinism with 'the ability to choose otherwise'.”
That condition is irrelevant to my example. I used the example of a card player. Shuffling the deck determines the order of the cards. A card player can do nothing to alter the sequence. The deck is like a closed future.
Depending on the game, the player may have some idea of what cards remain outstanding, and he can lay odds on any particular combination, but he doesn’t know which card is coming next.
Yet that doesn’t prevent a card player from deliberating on the abstract possibilities, resolving on one particular course of action, and acting on his decision.
This is despite the fact that only one of the abstract possibilities represents the actual order of the deck. And a card player knows that when he chooses to call, raise, or fold.
A card player is betting on a closed future (the deck).
“The card player example relates to the outcome of choices not choices (I said choose otherwise, not do otherwise). The epistemic sense of 'possible' relates to the execution of choices, not choices themselves. In fact, the card player example is twice removed from the choice itself. The card player chooses to take another card; his success or failure in that attempt is getting another card or not (i.e. does he have a heart attack while asking for one, or does a ceiling tile fall on the dealer's head...). Steve's example is about the outcome of the draw, not the draw itself. Further, the card player isn't thinking ‘is choosing to draw possible?’ (i.e. can I make the internal mental resolution?), he's thinking about the outcome of drawing another card, so his use of possible relates to outcomes of choices, not choices themselves.”
i) Since Dan has insisted on a very expansive definition of choice, which includes the outcome, Dan’s objection is inconsistent with his own definition: “I generally think of choices at three levels: 1) contemplation, 2) choice and 3) execution of choice.”
What does (3) correspond to if not the outcome of (1)-(2)?
ii) Moreover, libertarian freewill assumes control over the outcome. That’s the point. Unless the decisions of the free agent effect the chosen outcome–he’s hardly free in a libertarian sense. It would be like pushing buttons on a vending machine in which you’re free to push any combination you like, but what you get doesn’t correspond to what you select. You select the Butterfinger Crisp, but you get the 3 Musketeers instead. Is that how Dan now defines “choice”?
“But even if I had said ‘do otherwise’, a determinist card player still shouldn't think he is able to do otherwise.”
Every card player is a determinist card player. He goes into the game knowing full well that he can do nothing to alter the order of the cards (unless he cheats by bribing the dealer).
But it’s his ignorance of the actual sequence, along with his knowledge of abstract possibilities, which creates the conceptual space for him to deliberate, decide, and act on his decision.
“Beyond 'the ability to choose otherwise'; I don't think the epistemic sense of possible could reconcile the determinism with the dictionary definition of 'choose' (i.e. selection between possible alternatives).”
Does a gambler look up the definition of “choice” in Webster’s before he plays poker? Does the dictionary definition of choice tell him what he can and cannot do at the card table?
“This "one possibility at a time" limitation of determinism becomes a problem when it comes to choice, as choosing involves at least two options.”
i) To say “choosing involves at least two options” underscores, once again, why it’s counterproductive to talk with Dan. All he’s done here is to beg the question in favor of libertarianism. And it’s not as if I haven’t responded to this assertion on more than one occasion.
But you can never make any headway in a dialogue with Dan. He uses an argument. You present a counterargument. The next time he responds to you, he reverts to his original argument as if no counterargument was offered. It’s like having a conversation with a man in a nursing home who can’t remember what you said 5 minutes ago.
ii) The other problem is that, instead of beginning with reality, Dan begins with his precommitment to libertarian freedom. He begins with his tendentious definition of choice.
But the “one possibility of a time” limitation is an objective limitation which is imposed on human agents by the nature of time itself–in conjunction with logical (in-)compossibilities. We cannot simultaneously make contrary choices. In some cases we can make successive contrary choices, but because contrary choices are mutually exclusive, you can only make one such choice at a time. That limitation is due to the nature of time itself, as well as what is logically compossible.
It is psychologically possible to simultaneously contemplate contrary choices, but not to simultaneously act on them.
“A determinist can't say (or think or imply) 'I know 20 is possible', if 20 is possible or 21 is possible and he doesn't know which.”
That’s not the point. A determinist doesn’t have to think both A and B are live possibilities. Rather, he doesn’t know in advance which abstract possibility is concretely impossible.
But he can contemplate the abstract possibilities, which is just what a card player does, make decisions on the basis of abstract possibilities, and then act accordingly.
All Dan is doing here, and all that Dan is ever doing here, is to fault determinism because it isn’t libertarianism. He keeps acting as if determinism is deficient since the determinist can’t view “choice” in the same way a libertarian can. But we already know that. That’s a given. That’s a presupposition of the debate. That’s hardly a valid objection to determinism.
What if a determinist were to do the same thing in reverse: fault libertarianism because it isn’t determinism? Act as if libertarianism is deficient because a libertarian can’t view “choice” in the same way a determinist can?
Dan has no capacity for critical detachment. He can’t bring himself to evaluate the opposing position on its own terms. All he does is to apply a libertarian yardstick to determinism, and–voila!–determinism comes up short if you measure it by a libertarian yardstick.
“But before we get into the details, I need to take a brief detour into the difference between causal and logical impossibility.”
As if anyone needs to hear his little tutorial on the subject.
My own position already draws that very distinction. The card play knows what is logically possible. Shuffling the deck causes the cards to be arranged in a certain sequence. The card player can’t change that fact. That’s a given. That’s a presupposition of the game. Indeed, that’s what makes it possible to lay odds. That’s the baseline which makes it possible for a player to engage in rational deliberation.
“This issue is similar to the discussion Steve and I had about God's foreknowledge and future contingents; we must distinguish between truth and the basis of truth. The basis of truth is causal.”
In that case, Dan should be a Calvinist. God knows true future propositions because God causes the future, via primary or secondary causality.
“Causal forces outside the player and the player's causal power will determine the outcome.”
Like shuffling a deck of cards.
“Finally, Steve looks for Greek and Hebrew word studies. I have already pointed out that modern scolorship is unanimously translates bâcha and eklegomai as choose.”
This goes back to Dan’s incorrible dishonesty. Yes, he pointed that out. And I responded to his rejoinder.
When I respond to his rejoinder, what does he do? Does he acknowledge my response? No. He acts as if nothing was every said in response to his rejoinder.
Dan can’t bring himself to argue in good faith. He keeps repeating the same stale arguments as if no one ever interacted with his argument.
“But in Molinism, if we would choose chocolate; God can't choose the possible world in which we choose vanilla.”
There are two fundamental problems with this characterization:
i) Dan is equivocating. A possible agent’s object of choice is not the same object as God’s object of choice. When we say that God chooses a possible world, what we mean is which possible world God choose to instantiate. Which possible world will become the real world.
When we say what a possible agent chooses, that has reference to what a possible agent does in a possible world. It doesn’t mean a possible agent is choosing which possible world will become the real world.
Due to Dan’s equivocation, Molinism continues to fall afoul of my objection: in the actual world, an actual agent isn’t free to choose between either A or B. Rather, the actual world actualizes either A or B. If it actualizes A, then B is no longer in play. If it actualizes B, then A is no longer in play.
In Molinism, libertarian freedom only applies at the level of possible worlds, and not the actual world. An actual world actualizes one possibility to the exclusion of the others. That’s the point. That’s what distinguishes actuality from possibility. These alternatives are only live possibilities in possible worlds. In the real world, they cease to be live possibilities.
ii) The other problem goes to basic contradiction within Molinism. On the one hand, Molinism tries to reconcile predestination with libertarian freedom. Possible agents are free to do otherwise, but God determines which possibility to instantiate.
On the other hand, Molinism says that God can choose from this array of possibilities because he knows what a human agent would do in any given situation. However, the conventional definition of libertarian freedom is the freedom to do otherwise in the very same situation.
So it turns on which side of the Molinist contradiction you want to accentuate. If you accentuate the libertarian side of the Molinist contradiction, then Dan has introduced a false dichotomy: “But in Molinism, if we would choose chocolate; God can't choose the possible world in which we choose vanilla.”
Up to a point, that’s true, but quite deceptive. For if libertarianism is true, then there’s a possible world in which we choose chocolate, and another possible world in which we choose vanilla. If freedom means the freedom to do otherwise, then there’s a possible world which matches each alternative
Therefore, even if we accept libertarianism, God is never confronted with a situation in which our choice restricts his choice.
“Probably a closer analogy would be us hypothesizing what someone we know well would do in a given circumstance, but even that's imperfect. Ultimately, it's a unique ability God has.”
Of course, that’s just a dodge. If you stipulate that freedom means the freedom to do otherwise, then you deny God unique ability to know what we’d do in any given circumstance. If what we will do could go either way, then our choice cannot be a determinate object of knowledge.
“Actualization takes place over time, not from the beginning with God's choice. It's actualized for the reasons and causes (predetermined or free) God saw would be the reasons and causes. God's choice doesn't directly determine contingencies, nor does He start a deterministic sequence of events. Other worlds can, but will not ( and would not) be actualized.”
That’s irrelevant to the issue at hand. Possible agents comprise different sets of serial choices. Different hypothetical timelines. Even if you say that successive choices are successively realized, that’s irrelevant to the fact that God is instantiating one series of possibilities to the exclusion of other series. God makes that call, not the possible agent.
Even in Molinist terms, the real world has a closed future.
“We can choose worlds contrary to God's chosen world, but His foreknowledge and MK cannot be deceived.”
That’s an assertion, not an argument. For reasons already given, libertarian freedom precludes either simple foreknowledge or middle knowledge.
“Because God's choice of ‘chocolate world’ is logically dependent on my future choice of chocolate.”
This overlooks the fact of what makes a possible person a possible person in the first place. A possible person is simply a divine concept. A mental construct.
It’s not something over and above God’s conception, in relation to which God is dependent. To the contrary, a possible person is entirely dependent on divine cogitation.
arminianperspectives said...
“Even if the choice exists solely in our mind, with no external correlation, the choice can only be validly called a choice if the mind is at least free to move in either direction (i.e. choose this cognitive option, or that, etc.). But in a deterministic world the mind can only move in one (predetermined) direction, and therefore there is no choice to be made.”
That’s a completely illogical inference. Determinism doesn’t eliminate mental deliberation. All it means, rather, is that if I deliberate between two or more hypothetical options, then I was predetermined to deliberate between two or ore hypothetical options.
http://www.arminianchronicles.com/2009/04/determinism-and-choosing-otherwise.html
“I don't believe I am equivocating; given determinism, a person can’t choose otherwise and if one is a determinist, they can’t consistently think they can choose otherwise. I don't think the epistemic sense of ‘possible’ reconciles determinism with 'the ability to choose otherwise'.”
That condition is irrelevant to my example. I used the example of a card player. Shuffling the deck determines the order of the cards. A card player can do nothing to alter the sequence. The deck is like a closed future.
Depending on the game, the player may have some idea of what cards remain outstanding, and he can lay odds on any particular combination, but he doesn’t know which card is coming next.
Yet that doesn’t prevent a card player from deliberating on the abstract possibilities, resolving on one particular course of action, and acting on his decision.
This is despite the fact that only one of the abstract possibilities represents the actual order of the deck. And a card player knows that when he chooses to call, raise, or fold.
A card player is betting on a closed future (the deck).
“The card player example relates to the outcome of choices not choices (I said choose otherwise, not do otherwise). The epistemic sense of 'possible' relates to the execution of choices, not choices themselves. In fact, the card player example is twice removed from the choice itself. The card player chooses to take another card; his success or failure in that attempt is getting another card or not (i.e. does he have a heart attack while asking for one, or does a ceiling tile fall on the dealer's head...). Steve's example is about the outcome of the draw, not the draw itself. Further, the card player isn't thinking ‘is choosing to draw possible?’ (i.e. can I make the internal mental resolution?), he's thinking about the outcome of drawing another card, so his use of possible relates to outcomes of choices, not choices themselves.”
i) Since Dan has insisted on a very expansive definition of choice, which includes the outcome, Dan’s objection is inconsistent with his own definition: “I generally think of choices at three levels: 1) contemplation, 2) choice and 3) execution of choice.”
What does (3) correspond to if not the outcome of (1)-(2)?
ii) Moreover, libertarian freewill assumes control over the outcome. That’s the point. Unless the decisions of the free agent effect the chosen outcome–he’s hardly free in a libertarian sense. It would be like pushing buttons on a vending machine in which you’re free to push any combination you like, but what you get doesn’t correspond to what you select. You select the Butterfinger Crisp, but you get the 3 Musketeers instead. Is that how Dan now defines “choice”?
“But even if I had said ‘do otherwise’, a determinist card player still shouldn't think he is able to do otherwise.”
Every card player is a determinist card player. He goes into the game knowing full well that he can do nothing to alter the order of the cards (unless he cheats by bribing the dealer).
But it’s his ignorance of the actual sequence, along with his knowledge of abstract possibilities, which creates the conceptual space for him to deliberate, decide, and act on his decision.
“Beyond 'the ability to choose otherwise'; I don't think the epistemic sense of possible could reconcile the determinism with the dictionary definition of 'choose' (i.e. selection between possible alternatives).”
Does a gambler look up the definition of “choice” in Webster’s before he plays poker? Does the dictionary definition of choice tell him what he can and cannot do at the card table?
“This "one possibility at a time" limitation of determinism becomes a problem when it comes to choice, as choosing involves at least two options.”
i) To say “choosing involves at least two options” underscores, once again, why it’s counterproductive to talk with Dan. All he’s done here is to beg the question in favor of libertarianism. And it’s not as if I haven’t responded to this assertion on more than one occasion.
But you can never make any headway in a dialogue with Dan. He uses an argument. You present a counterargument. The next time he responds to you, he reverts to his original argument as if no counterargument was offered. It’s like having a conversation with a man in a nursing home who can’t remember what you said 5 minutes ago.
ii) The other problem is that, instead of beginning with reality, Dan begins with his precommitment to libertarian freedom. He begins with his tendentious definition of choice.
But the “one possibility of a time” limitation is an objective limitation which is imposed on human agents by the nature of time itself–in conjunction with logical (in-)compossibilities. We cannot simultaneously make contrary choices. In some cases we can make successive contrary choices, but because contrary choices are mutually exclusive, you can only make one such choice at a time. That limitation is due to the nature of time itself, as well as what is logically compossible.
It is psychologically possible to simultaneously contemplate contrary choices, but not to simultaneously act on them.
“A determinist can't say (or think or imply) 'I know 20 is possible', if 20 is possible or 21 is possible and he doesn't know which.”
That’s not the point. A determinist doesn’t have to think both A and B are live possibilities. Rather, he doesn’t know in advance which abstract possibility is concretely impossible.
But he can contemplate the abstract possibilities, which is just what a card player does, make decisions on the basis of abstract possibilities, and then act accordingly.
All Dan is doing here, and all that Dan is ever doing here, is to fault determinism because it isn’t libertarianism. He keeps acting as if determinism is deficient since the determinist can’t view “choice” in the same way a libertarian can. But we already know that. That’s a given. That’s a presupposition of the debate. That’s hardly a valid objection to determinism.
What if a determinist were to do the same thing in reverse: fault libertarianism because it isn’t determinism? Act as if libertarianism is deficient because a libertarian can’t view “choice” in the same way a determinist can?
Dan has no capacity for critical detachment. He can’t bring himself to evaluate the opposing position on its own terms. All he does is to apply a libertarian yardstick to determinism, and–voila!–determinism comes up short if you measure it by a libertarian yardstick.
“But before we get into the details, I need to take a brief detour into the difference between causal and logical impossibility.”
As if anyone needs to hear his little tutorial on the subject.
My own position already draws that very distinction. The card play knows what is logically possible. Shuffling the deck causes the cards to be arranged in a certain sequence. The card player can’t change that fact. That’s a given. That’s a presupposition of the game. Indeed, that’s what makes it possible to lay odds. That’s the baseline which makes it possible for a player to engage in rational deliberation.
“This issue is similar to the discussion Steve and I had about God's foreknowledge and future contingents; we must distinguish between truth and the basis of truth. The basis of truth is causal.”
In that case, Dan should be a Calvinist. God knows true future propositions because God causes the future, via primary or secondary causality.
“Causal forces outside the player and the player's causal power will determine the outcome.”
Like shuffling a deck of cards.
“Finally, Steve looks for Greek and Hebrew word studies. I have already pointed out that modern scolorship is unanimously translates bâcha and eklegomai as choose.”
This goes back to Dan’s incorrible dishonesty. Yes, he pointed that out. And I responded to his rejoinder.
When I respond to his rejoinder, what does he do? Does he acknowledge my response? No. He acts as if nothing was every said in response to his rejoinder.
Dan can’t bring himself to argue in good faith. He keeps repeating the same stale arguments as if no one ever interacted with his argument.
“But in Molinism, if we would choose chocolate; God can't choose the possible world in which we choose vanilla.”
There are two fundamental problems with this characterization:
i) Dan is equivocating. A possible agent’s object of choice is not the same object as God’s object of choice. When we say that God chooses a possible world, what we mean is which possible world God choose to instantiate. Which possible world will become the real world.
When we say what a possible agent chooses, that has reference to what a possible agent does in a possible world. It doesn’t mean a possible agent is choosing which possible world will become the real world.
Due to Dan’s equivocation, Molinism continues to fall afoul of my objection: in the actual world, an actual agent isn’t free to choose between either A or B. Rather, the actual world actualizes either A or B. If it actualizes A, then B is no longer in play. If it actualizes B, then A is no longer in play.
In Molinism, libertarian freedom only applies at the level of possible worlds, and not the actual world. An actual world actualizes one possibility to the exclusion of the others. That’s the point. That’s what distinguishes actuality from possibility. These alternatives are only live possibilities in possible worlds. In the real world, they cease to be live possibilities.
ii) The other problem goes to basic contradiction within Molinism. On the one hand, Molinism tries to reconcile predestination with libertarian freedom. Possible agents are free to do otherwise, but God determines which possibility to instantiate.
On the other hand, Molinism says that God can choose from this array of possibilities because he knows what a human agent would do in any given situation. However, the conventional definition of libertarian freedom is the freedom to do otherwise in the very same situation.
So it turns on which side of the Molinist contradiction you want to accentuate. If you accentuate the libertarian side of the Molinist contradiction, then Dan has introduced a false dichotomy: “But in Molinism, if we would choose chocolate; God can't choose the possible world in which we choose vanilla.”
Up to a point, that’s true, but quite deceptive. For if libertarianism is true, then there’s a possible world in which we choose chocolate, and another possible world in which we choose vanilla. If freedom means the freedom to do otherwise, then there’s a possible world which matches each alternative
Therefore, even if we accept libertarianism, God is never confronted with a situation in which our choice restricts his choice.
“Probably a closer analogy would be us hypothesizing what someone we know well would do in a given circumstance, but even that's imperfect. Ultimately, it's a unique ability God has.”
Of course, that’s just a dodge. If you stipulate that freedom means the freedom to do otherwise, then you deny God unique ability to know what we’d do in any given circumstance. If what we will do could go either way, then our choice cannot be a determinate object of knowledge.
“Actualization takes place over time, not from the beginning with God's choice. It's actualized for the reasons and causes (predetermined or free) God saw would be the reasons and causes. God's choice doesn't directly determine contingencies, nor does He start a deterministic sequence of events. Other worlds can, but will not ( and would not) be actualized.”
That’s irrelevant to the issue at hand. Possible agents comprise different sets of serial choices. Different hypothetical timelines. Even if you say that successive choices are successively realized, that’s irrelevant to the fact that God is instantiating one series of possibilities to the exclusion of other series. God makes that call, not the possible agent.
Even in Molinist terms, the real world has a closed future.
“We can choose worlds contrary to God's chosen world, but His foreknowledge and MK cannot be deceived.”
That’s an assertion, not an argument. For reasons already given, libertarian freedom precludes either simple foreknowledge or middle knowledge.
“Because God's choice of ‘chocolate world’ is logically dependent on my future choice of chocolate.”
This overlooks the fact of what makes a possible person a possible person in the first place. A possible person is simply a divine concept. A mental construct.
It’s not something over and above God’s conception, in relation to which God is dependent. To the contrary, a possible person is entirely dependent on divine cogitation.
arminianperspectives said...
“Even if the choice exists solely in our mind, with no external correlation, the choice can only be validly called a choice if the mind is at least free to move in either direction (i.e. choose this cognitive option, or that, etc.). But in a deterministic world the mind can only move in one (predetermined) direction, and therefore there is no choice to be made.”
That’s a completely illogical inference. Determinism doesn’t eliminate mental deliberation. All it means, rather, is that if I deliberate between two or more hypothetical options, then I was predetermined to deliberate between two or ore hypothetical options.
Labels:
Arminianism,
Calvinism,
Hays,
Molinism
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Was Calvin a voluntarist?
An Orthodox blog did a post which, in the course of the feedback, accused Calvin of being a theological voluntarist:
http://energeticprocession.com/2009/05/18/reformed-doctrine-of-imputed-righteousness-refuted/
I offered a few comments. The thread has since been closed to further comments, so I’ll post my comments here, along with a final comment:
**********************************************************************************
steve hays Says:
May 22, 2009 at 12:39 pm
A couple of quick points:
1. Yes, Vos was a supra. He makes that plain in his review of Bavinck’s systematic theology.
2. Calvinism typically rejects voluntarism. See Helm’s discussion in Calvin’s Ideas.
steve hays Says:
May 22, 2009 at 6:00 pm
Cyril Says:
May 22, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Calvinism may eschew voluntarism, but Calvin’s theology itself is riddled with contradictions on this very count: essentially his humanist Stoicism fighting with the patrimony of Platonism and Aristotelianism which sits at best in tenuous equipoise in his works. As NeoChal has already here indicated, the Divine Will is antecedent and anterior in and to all things. With regard to the discussion of this thread, I think there is an even more telling passage in Book II.
************************
There’s a reason I referred you to Helm’s detailed analysis. Isolated quote-mining is deceptive. If you can’t bring yourself to read Helm, here’s another discussion of the same issue:
http://philofreligion.homestead.com/files/Calvin_Distinction_FD.htm
steve hays Says:
May 24, 2009 at 4:41 pm
Cyril Says:
“I had Paul Helm’s Calvin and the Calvinists some years ago and either gave it to my brother or deposited it with the library of the PCA church I then attended. I don’t remember anything that remarkable about the text. Not to say there isn’t, I just don’t remember.”
I wouldn’t expect you to remember since that isn’t the book I referenced. To repeat, I mentioned Helm’s book on Calvin’s Ideas. That’s the title. Try again.
steve hays Says:
May 25, 2009 at 1:27 pm
Neo,
You quote, and take exception to, the following statement:
[As to that link to Paul Helm (like the blog name), Pr. Helm writes “Second, Calvin adheres to the doctrine of divine simplicity, according to which God’s nature does not consist of parts which compose it. (Inst. I.13.2) No parts are antecedent to God himself. He exists a se, independently and in an absolutely underived sense. So his will is ‘bound’ to his nature, for it is, strictly speaking, not a separate ‘part’ of it. God necessarily acts in accordance with it.”]
In your opinion, what, exactly, is wrong with this statement? Do you think that God’s nature does consist of “parts”? Is God a composite being? Do you think that in God’s nature, one part is antecedent to God himself? Do you think that God’s existence is derivative? Do you deny that God exists a se? Do you think that God’s will is a separate part of his nature?
What, precisely, is there in this formulation of divine simplicity that’s mistaken?
steve hays Says:
May 25, 2009 at 1:30 pm
NeoChalcedonian Says:
I’m not disputing what you’re claiming; I asked a question: “What basis does Calvin have for rejecting voluntarism?”
********************************
Since, on his view, the divine nature is not reducible to any one attribute, God’s decisions and actions are not reducible to a sheer will.
steve hays Says:
May 26, 2009 at 1:56 pm
Perry Robinson Says:
“If simplicity and composition are taken to be opposites and to encompass all possibilities, then a rejection of one would entail an endorsement of the other. To the degree that a thing is unified it is simple and to the degree that it is not unified is the degree to which it is composite. We wish to pick out a notion of simplicity that doesn’t work this way by seprating off unity from simlicity so understood. A plurality is not opposed to unity, only if unity is understood as a complete lack of plurality and plurality entails composition. But we don’t think it does in either case. One of our reasons for thinking so is that in God, the plurality of persons does not compromise divine unity or amount to ‘parts’.”
I take it from this answer that you don’t oppose divine simplicity, per se. Rather, you oppose certain models of divine simplicity.
I also notice that your disagreement with the statement which Neo quoted from Helm (summarizing Calvin) seems to be a rather selective disagreement rather than a wholesale disagreement.
“What Neo seems to be getting at is that to speak of different attributions or predications is a way of speaking for something that is otherwise unified in a way that excludes either all distinctions in itself or all distinctions except for those of a definitional or formal nature.”
Neo seized on a particular statement by Helm. Does this objection follow from the actual wording of the statement he quoted? Does it even follow from Helm’s additional exposition, in the article I cited?
“Either way via act there will be no difference in so far as the thing is in the things that are attributed. They are the same. If that is true to say that the divine nature is not reducible to any one attribution is true but somewhat misleading since the difference is in our way of speaking and not in the object. If God’s decisions and actions are not reducible to sheer will, then are will and intellect in God the same thing? Is the divine essence and the divine will the same thing?”
i) The answer would depend, in part, one how divine simplicity is explicated. Neo seems to be attacking a very specific model of divine simplicity. But the passage he quoted lacks the specific features that you and he are objecting to.
I have yet to see in the combox here an exposition of Calvin’s doctrine of divine simplicity which would give rise to these objections, and further underwrite the claim that Calvin was a voluntarist. What I see, rather, is a bare conclusion in which all of the key steps of the argument leading up to that conclusion are missing.
ii) Even if, for the sake of argument, we stipulate the absence of “real” distinctions in the Godhead, that doesn’t get you to voluntarism. For that model of divine simplicity doesn’t select for one particular attribute as the defining attribute of the Godhead. Equating all the attributes is not the same thing as singling out one attribute in particular (e.g. the divine will) as the overriding principle. Divine simplicity doesn’t isolate one particular attribute, then subsume all other attributes to that one particular attribute. There’s no directionality to divine simplicity. It doesn’t privilege God’s will over God’s justice or God’s mercy or God’s omniscience or God’s omnipotence, &c. It doesn’t prioritize the will of God as the dominant principle.
What’s actually going one here seems to be the use of “voluntarism” as a pretext or stalking horse to target the real quarry–which is a particular version of divine simplicity. And if you can connect the two, you can also transfer the odium of theological voluntarism to divine simplicity.
“Here I am not asking how we must speak but of what in fact is the case. If they are the same thing then modal problems seem to appear rather quickly. If we retreat to talk of the necessity of the divine essence relative to itself as a terminus as distinguished from the “things on the way” to that terminus which are conditional we have made two useless mistakes. First, we have gone back to the way of speaking and not to the reality itself. Second, if the routes to the terminus are not the same act as the self subsisting act and are God, then we have compromised the proposed simplicity with two acts. If they are the same act, then the modal problem arises again with a necessary world and panentheism looms large.”
Right now I’m not here to either defend or oppose Calvin. At this stage of the discussion an evaluation of his position would be quite premature. We can’t begin to properly evaluate a position until we accurately state what that position is. Thus far I haven’t see anything resembling a detailed exposition of Calvin’s position on voluntarism–much less his position on divine simplicity, even assuming the two are internally related.
From what I’ve read, Calvin’s position on the divine will is highly qualified. In the discussion, thus far, I don’t see that any allowance has been made for his qualifications.
“You ask if God exists a se. Well this would presuppose adherence to a notion of existence or rather being to which we do not subscribe. We do not take God to be self subsisting being. So we deny that God exists as se, but without the consequence your questions imply for they suppose that God fids his place somewhere on a spectrum of being or as either of its terminal points. On our view the entire spectrum, even with its ‘zero’ and maximal points are not applicable to God ad intra in the first place. This is what it means in part to say that God is beyond being.”
That depends on whether you’re going to invest terms like “being” and “existence” with a very specialized conceptual meaning. In and of themselves, these are very generic terms.
To say that God “exists” doesn’t range God along a continuum of existence, as if there are degrees of being, and God simply has more of that property than a creature. It’s not drawing a quantitative distinction–a difference or degree rather than kind.
i) Rather, it’s a distinction between something and nothing. Entities or nonentities. Existents or nonexistents. Is there a God?
ii) The terminology isn’t meant to carry much specific metaphysical baggage. In common discourse, a “being” often functions as nothing more a grammatical object or verbal placeholder–like any noun or pronoun. A referring term, like “something” or “someone.” We can’t talk about something without naming it. And there are times when we prefer the most generic terminology available to avoid prejudging the nature of the referent. Or because it isn’t relevant to what we want to say at that point to use a more specific descriptor.
iii) We prefer to call God a “being” rather than a “thing,” someone rather than something, because “thing” language carries the connotation of an inanimate object.
Perry,
Your primary objection seems to be that Calvin’s repudiation of voluntarism is in tension with his commitment to divine simplicity. That’s possible. Assuming, for the sake of argument, that his overall position is subtly inconsistent on this point, there is, of course, more than on direction in which the inconsistency could be relieved.
“If I thought that something and nothing were the two ends of the spectrum that encompassed all possibilities, I might agree with you, but I don’t.”
Why do we have to view something and nothing as two ends of the spectrum? Doesn’t that statement imply a chain-of-being, with degrees of being? But how does asserting that God “exists” commit one to such a model?
I myself think that there are different modes of being, but not different degrees of being.
“Moreover, it is by this underlying idea that Reformed arguments form foreknowledge to foreordination move since willing and knowing in God are the same.”
Divine simplicity is one way to make that move. But there is, as you know, another way to make an equivalent move. If God knows x, then x cannot be otherwise. While that is not the same thing as metaphysical determinism, yet–at an epistemic level–x is a determinate object of knowledge. So epistemology has the same cash value as ontology at this juncture. That, however, holds true whether or not divine simplicity (or some particular version therefore) is true or false.
“‘Something’ is not some general category to which God is subsumed as a member.”
Unless you define God in terms of absolute alterity with respect to the created order, then God and creatures do share certain things in common–in which case membership in a general category would not be inherently objectionable.
This doesn’t mean, however, that God and creatures are both property-instances of some abstract universal which subsists over and above both of them. Rather, they would share certain things in common because God is the exemplar of certain properties which the creature exemplifies.
http://energeticprocession.com/2009/05/18/reformed-doctrine-of-imputed-righteousness-refuted/
I offered a few comments. The thread has since been closed to further comments, so I’ll post my comments here, along with a final comment:
**********************************************************************************
steve hays Says:
May 22, 2009 at 12:39 pm
A couple of quick points:
1. Yes, Vos was a supra. He makes that plain in his review of Bavinck’s systematic theology.
2. Calvinism typically rejects voluntarism. See Helm’s discussion in Calvin’s Ideas.
steve hays Says:
May 22, 2009 at 6:00 pm
Cyril Says:
May 22, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Calvinism may eschew voluntarism, but Calvin’s theology itself is riddled with contradictions on this very count: essentially his humanist Stoicism fighting with the patrimony of Platonism and Aristotelianism which sits at best in tenuous equipoise in his works. As NeoChal has already here indicated, the Divine Will is antecedent and anterior in and to all things. With regard to the discussion of this thread, I think there is an even more telling passage in Book II.
************************
There’s a reason I referred you to Helm’s detailed analysis. Isolated quote-mining is deceptive. If you can’t bring yourself to read Helm, here’s another discussion of the same issue:
http://philofreligion.homestead.com/files/Calvin_Distinction_FD.htm
steve hays Says:
May 24, 2009 at 4:41 pm
Cyril Says:
“I had Paul Helm’s Calvin and the Calvinists some years ago and either gave it to my brother or deposited it with the library of the PCA church I then attended. I don’t remember anything that remarkable about the text. Not to say there isn’t, I just don’t remember.”
I wouldn’t expect you to remember since that isn’t the book I referenced. To repeat, I mentioned Helm’s book on Calvin’s Ideas. That’s the title. Try again.
steve hays Says:
May 25, 2009 at 1:27 pm
Neo,
You quote, and take exception to, the following statement:
[As to that link to Paul Helm (like the blog name), Pr. Helm writes “Second, Calvin adheres to the doctrine of divine simplicity, according to which God’s nature does not consist of parts which compose it. (Inst. I.13.2) No parts are antecedent to God himself. He exists a se, independently and in an absolutely underived sense. So his will is ‘bound’ to his nature, for it is, strictly speaking, not a separate ‘part’ of it. God necessarily acts in accordance with it.”]
In your opinion, what, exactly, is wrong with this statement? Do you think that God’s nature does consist of “parts”? Is God a composite being? Do you think that in God’s nature, one part is antecedent to God himself? Do you think that God’s existence is derivative? Do you deny that God exists a se? Do you think that God’s will is a separate part of his nature?
What, precisely, is there in this formulation of divine simplicity that’s mistaken?
steve hays Says:
May 25, 2009 at 1:30 pm
NeoChalcedonian Says:
I’m not disputing what you’re claiming; I asked a question: “What basis does Calvin have for rejecting voluntarism?”
********************************
Since, on his view, the divine nature is not reducible to any one attribute, God’s decisions and actions are not reducible to a sheer will.
steve hays Says:
May 26, 2009 at 1:56 pm
Perry Robinson Says:
“If simplicity and composition are taken to be opposites and to encompass all possibilities, then a rejection of one would entail an endorsement of the other. To the degree that a thing is unified it is simple and to the degree that it is not unified is the degree to which it is composite. We wish to pick out a notion of simplicity that doesn’t work this way by seprating off unity from simlicity so understood. A plurality is not opposed to unity, only if unity is understood as a complete lack of plurality and plurality entails composition. But we don’t think it does in either case. One of our reasons for thinking so is that in God, the plurality of persons does not compromise divine unity or amount to ‘parts’.”
I take it from this answer that you don’t oppose divine simplicity, per se. Rather, you oppose certain models of divine simplicity.
I also notice that your disagreement with the statement which Neo quoted from Helm (summarizing Calvin) seems to be a rather selective disagreement rather than a wholesale disagreement.
“What Neo seems to be getting at is that to speak of different attributions or predications is a way of speaking for something that is otherwise unified in a way that excludes either all distinctions in itself or all distinctions except for those of a definitional or formal nature.”
Neo seized on a particular statement by Helm. Does this objection follow from the actual wording of the statement he quoted? Does it even follow from Helm’s additional exposition, in the article I cited?
“Either way via act there will be no difference in so far as the thing is in the things that are attributed. They are the same. If that is true to say that the divine nature is not reducible to any one attribution is true but somewhat misleading since the difference is in our way of speaking and not in the object. If God’s decisions and actions are not reducible to sheer will, then are will and intellect in God the same thing? Is the divine essence and the divine will the same thing?”
i) The answer would depend, in part, one how divine simplicity is explicated. Neo seems to be attacking a very specific model of divine simplicity. But the passage he quoted lacks the specific features that you and he are objecting to.
I have yet to see in the combox here an exposition of Calvin’s doctrine of divine simplicity which would give rise to these objections, and further underwrite the claim that Calvin was a voluntarist. What I see, rather, is a bare conclusion in which all of the key steps of the argument leading up to that conclusion are missing.
ii) Even if, for the sake of argument, we stipulate the absence of “real” distinctions in the Godhead, that doesn’t get you to voluntarism. For that model of divine simplicity doesn’t select for one particular attribute as the defining attribute of the Godhead. Equating all the attributes is not the same thing as singling out one attribute in particular (e.g. the divine will) as the overriding principle. Divine simplicity doesn’t isolate one particular attribute, then subsume all other attributes to that one particular attribute. There’s no directionality to divine simplicity. It doesn’t privilege God’s will over God’s justice or God’s mercy or God’s omniscience or God’s omnipotence, &c. It doesn’t prioritize the will of God as the dominant principle.
What’s actually going one here seems to be the use of “voluntarism” as a pretext or stalking horse to target the real quarry–which is a particular version of divine simplicity. And if you can connect the two, you can also transfer the odium of theological voluntarism to divine simplicity.
“Here I am not asking how we must speak but of what in fact is the case. If they are the same thing then modal problems seem to appear rather quickly. If we retreat to talk of the necessity of the divine essence relative to itself as a terminus as distinguished from the “things on the way” to that terminus which are conditional we have made two useless mistakes. First, we have gone back to the way of speaking and not to the reality itself. Second, if the routes to the terminus are not the same act as the self subsisting act and are God, then we have compromised the proposed simplicity with two acts. If they are the same act, then the modal problem arises again with a necessary world and panentheism looms large.”
Right now I’m not here to either defend or oppose Calvin. At this stage of the discussion an evaluation of his position would be quite premature. We can’t begin to properly evaluate a position until we accurately state what that position is. Thus far I haven’t see anything resembling a detailed exposition of Calvin’s position on voluntarism–much less his position on divine simplicity, even assuming the two are internally related.
From what I’ve read, Calvin’s position on the divine will is highly qualified. In the discussion, thus far, I don’t see that any allowance has been made for his qualifications.
“You ask if God exists a se. Well this would presuppose adherence to a notion of existence or rather being to which we do not subscribe. We do not take God to be self subsisting being. So we deny that God exists as se, but without the consequence your questions imply for they suppose that God fids his place somewhere on a spectrum of being or as either of its terminal points. On our view the entire spectrum, even with its ‘zero’ and maximal points are not applicable to God ad intra in the first place. This is what it means in part to say that God is beyond being.”
That depends on whether you’re going to invest terms like “being” and “existence” with a very specialized conceptual meaning. In and of themselves, these are very generic terms.
To say that God “exists” doesn’t range God along a continuum of existence, as if there are degrees of being, and God simply has more of that property than a creature. It’s not drawing a quantitative distinction–a difference or degree rather than kind.
i) Rather, it’s a distinction between something and nothing. Entities or nonentities. Existents or nonexistents. Is there a God?
ii) The terminology isn’t meant to carry much specific metaphysical baggage. In common discourse, a “being” often functions as nothing more a grammatical object or verbal placeholder–like any noun or pronoun. A referring term, like “something” or “someone.” We can’t talk about something without naming it. And there are times when we prefer the most generic terminology available to avoid prejudging the nature of the referent. Or because it isn’t relevant to what we want to say at that point to use a more specific descriptor.
iii) We prefer to call God a “being” rather than a “thing,” someone rather than something, because “thing” language carries the connotation of an inanimate object.
Perry,
Your primary objection seems to be that Calvin’s repudiation of voluntarism is in tension with his commitment to divine simplicity. That’s possible. Assuming, for the sake of argument, that his overall position is subtly inconsistent on this point, there is, of course, more than on direction in which the inconsistency could be relieved.
“If I thought that something and nothing were the two ends of the spectrum that encompassed all possibilities, I might agree with you, but I don’t.”
Why do we have to view something and nothing as two ends of the spectrum? Doesn’t that statement imply a chain-of-being, with degrees of being? But how does asserting that God “exists” commit one to such a model?
I myself think that there are different modes of being, but not different degrees of being.
“Moreover, it is by this underlying idea that Reformed arguments form foreknowledge to foreordination move since willing and knowing in God are the same.”
Divine simplicity is one way to make that move. But there is, as you know, another way to make an equivalent move. If God knows x, then x cannot be otherwise. While that is not the same thing as metaphysical determinism, yet–at an epistemic level–x is a determinate object of knowledge. So epistemology has the same cash value as ontology at this juncture. That, however, holds true whether or not divine simplicity (or some particular version therefore) is true or false.
“‘Something’ is not some general category to which God is subsumed as a member.”
Unless you define God in terms of absolute alterity with respect to the created order, then God and creatures do share certain things in common–in which case membership in a general category would not be inherently objectionable.
This doesn’t mean, however, that God and creatures are both property-instances of some abstract universal which subsists over and above both of them. Rather, they would share certain things in common because God is the exemplar of certain properties which the creature exemplifies.
Labels:
Hays,
John Calvin,
Orthodoxy
The Arminian authorship of sin
“I plan to post more on this subject in the near future as it is becoming increasingly popular for Calvinists to argue that the Arminian position falls to its own objection in claiming that Calvinism makes God the author of sin.”
http://arminianperspectives.wordpress.com/2009/06/05/does-arminianism-make-god-the-author-of-sin/
Case in point:
“Adopting Byrne’s language (HG 203), we may say that in standard libertarian theodicy, God knowingly created and sustained the person of Adolf Hitler, infallibly knowing that Auschwitz would follow, while retaining the power to cut short this devilish regime at any time. On this view, God has from all eternity been planning and purposing states of affairs with the infallible knowledge that horrendous evils will result from certain exercises of human free agency, and chooses to do nothing about it. There are of course important differences between libertarian and compatibilist theodicies. But is there much of a moral difference?”
http://paulhelmsdeep.blogspot.com/2009/06/theological-compatibilism-two-counter.html
http://arminianperspectives.wordpress.com/2009/06/05/does-arminianism-make-god-the-author-of-sin/
Case in point:
“Adopting Byrne’s language (HG 203), we may say that in standard libertarian theodicy, God knowingly created and sustained the person of Adolf Hitler, infallibly knowing that Auschwitz would follow, while retaining the power to cut short this devilish regime at any time. On this view, God has from all eternity been planning and purposing states of affairs with the infallible knowledge that horrendous evils will result from certain exercises of human free agency, and chooses to do nothing about it. There are of course important differences between libertarian and compatibilist theodicies. But is there much of a moral difference?”
http://paulhelmsdeep.blogspot.com/2009/06/theological-compatibilism-two-counter.html
Labels:
Arminianism,
Hays,
Theodicy
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Choosing the future
According to the typical Arminian, you can’t make a real choice unless the future is open-ended. And since they think people do make real choices–as they define it–they think the future is open-ended.
But what about the future? Men make plans for the future. What will I do tomorrow? Or next week? Or next year?
That involves making short-term or long-term choice’s about the future. Resolving on what you’re going to do.
Long-term plans involve shot-terms plans. You choose to do something on Friday. In order to do that, there may also be something you need to do on Thursday. Take wedding plans, in involve a series of preliminary events leading up to the grand event. Preparations.
But there’s a catch. All of us are mortal. Our earthly future will come to an end. Yet most of us don’t know when we will die. As a result, most of us end up making premortem plans for the postmorem future. Plans for a future in which they’re dead. All the things they’re going to do, which–due to the little mishap of death–they will never do. Never have a chance to do.
As a result, most of us make plans for a closed future. Even if you’re a libertarian, the future is only-ended to you as long as you exist in the future. Once you die, your future slams shut. There is still a future, but it doesn’t include you. It doesn’t include your choices. Yet that doesn’t prevent you from making plans for a closed future.
(From a Christian standpoint, you have a future in the afterlife. But I’m discussing plans we make about what we’ll do in this life–and not the world to come.)
Take James Dean. Dean was one of those Hollywood celebrities who died young. He died on September 30, 1955–at the tender age of 24.
Yet Dean surely had plans that extended beyond September 30, 1955. I assume he expected to go to bed that night and wake up the next morning. I assumed he was planning to do something with his time on October 1, 1955.
In his shortsighted outlook, he still had his entire life ahead of him. Decades to pencil in. So many choices! So many opportunities!
For example, Dean intended to play Billy the Kid in The Left Handed Gun. After he died, the part went to Paul Newman.
Soldiers do this all the time. They write letters home, discussing what they plan to do with their life once they return home. Write love letters to their sweetheart. That’s what keeps them going from day to day. The prospect of what they’ll do when they get back home.
Yet, sad to say, some of them, many of them, die on a foreign battlefield. And they know, at the time they write, that they may not live to write another letter–much less live to marry their sweetheart and start a family.
So most all of us make plans that overshoot the mark. We plan for a future which will never be. And that’s true for libertarians. What is more, libertarians knowing plan for a future which will never come to pass. Knowingly plan for a closed future.
Libertarians are mortal. They know that sooner or later they will die. Most of them don’t know when the will die. They don’t know the day or the week or the month. Yet this doesn’t prevent them from planning for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. They plan for a closed future just as if it were an open future. Exactly the same mental deliberations. The same psychological process. Even though they know full well that sooner or later, the future they plan for is a closed future.
Are libertarians fooling themselves? Are they self-deluded?
But what about the future? Men make plans for the future. What will I do tomorrow? Or next week? Or next year?
That involves making short-term or long-term choice’s about the future. Resolving on what you’re going to do.
Long-term plans involve shot-terms plans. You choose to do something on Friday. In order to do that, there may also be something you need to do on Thursday. Take wedding plans, in involve a series of preliminary events leading up to the grand event. Preparations.
But there’s a catch. All of us are mortal. Our earthly future will come to an end. Yet most of us don’t know when we will die. As a result, most of us end up making premortem plans for the postmorem future. Plans for a future in which they’re dead. All the things they’re going to do, which–due to the little mishap of death–they will never do. Never have a chance to do.
As a result, most of us make plans for a closed future. Even if you’re a libertarian, the future is only-ended to you as long as you exist in the future. Once you die, your future slams shut. There is still a future, but it doesn’t include you. It doesn’t include your choices. Yet that doesn’t prevent you from making plans for a closed future.
(From a Christian standpoint, you have a future in the afterlife. But I’m discussing plans we make about what we’ll do in this life–and not the world to come.)
Take James Dean. Dean was one of those Hollywood celebrities who died young. He died on September 30, 1955–at the tender age of 24.
Yet Dean surely had plans that extended beyond September 30, 1955. I assume he expected to go to bed that night and wake up the next morning. I assumed he was planning to do something with his time on October 1, 1955.
In his shortsighted outlook, he still had his entire life ahead of him. Decades to pencil in. So many choices! So many opportunities!
For example, Dean intended to play Billy the Kid in The Left Handed Gun. After he died, the part went to Paul Newman.
Soldiers do this all the time. They write letters home, discussing what they plan to do with their life once they return home. Write love letters to their sweetheart. That’s what keeps them going from day to day. The prospect of what they’ll do when they get back home.
Yet, sad to say, some of them, many of them, die on a foreign battlefield. And they know, at the time they write, that they may not live to write another letter–much less live to marry their sweetheart and start a family.
So most all of us make plans that overshoot the mark. We plan for a future which will never be. And that’s true for libertarians. What is more, libertarians knowing plan for a future which will never come to pass. Knowingly plan for a closed future.
Libertarians are mortal. They know that sooner or later they will die. Most of them don’t know when the will die. They don’t know the day or the week or the month. Yet this doesn’t prevent them from planning for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. They plan for a closed future just as if it were an open future. Exactly the same mental deliberations. The same psychological process. Even though they know full well that sooner or later, the future they plan for is a closed future.
Are libertarians fooling themselves? Are they self-deluded?
Harsh Realm
I’m beginning to wonder if certain SF scenarios aren’t fostering an irrational skepticism among some believers and unbelievers. In SF scenarios like The Matrix, Harsh Realm, and Dark City, most of the human inhabitants are systematically deluded about the real world. Does this mean that you and I can be thoroughly deluded about the external world?
There are several problems with that inference:
i) Even in these SF scenarios, there is a real world. An objective, extramental world outside the subjective illusion.
ii) The ability to imagine delusive thought-experiments doesn’t mean that you can actually be deluded about the external world. Rather, that only means you can imagine yourself to be deluded about the external world.
I can imagine many things. I can imagine that I’m Superman. Does that mean I can be Superman?
iii) Finally, appeal to SF scenarios of this type is too one-sided. Yes, there are SF scenarios in which a person is fed false memories or virtual stimuli. And these are the only memories he ever had. That’s the only “world” he’s ever known.
But as SF buffs surely know, there are also SF scenarios in which we have the opposite phenomenon. For example, we have futuristic espionage scenarios in which an “asset” is kidnapped, sedated, and fed virtual stimuli.
In this virtual world, his actual memories remain intact. However, his actual memories are at odds with his virtual past.
The only way for him to escape is to divulge classified information to virtual characters–who seem utterly real. And the “escape” is, itself, a virtual illusion.
The point of this experiment is to make the asset doubt himself. He begins to question his memories. As a result, he starts to lower his resistance.
He would never voluntarily divulge classified information to an actual interrogator, but within the virtual world he’s no longer sure who he can trust or distrust–because he can no longer trust himself. Or so he thinks.
Although the asset begins to question everything he used to believe, that doesn’t alter the fact that he retains accurate memories of the real world. He doesn’t cease to know what the real world is like just because he begins to harbor doubts. It’s possible to doubt what you know–even though you know it.
There are several problems with that inference:
i) Even in these SF scenarios, there is a real world. An objective, extramental world outside the subjective illusion.
ii) The ability to imagine delusive thought-experiments doesn’t mean that you can actually be deluded about the external world. Rather, that only means you can imagine yourself to be deluded about the external world.
I can imagine many things. I can imagine that I’m Superman. Does that mean I can be Superman?
iii) Finally, appeal to SF scenarios of this type is too one-sided. Yes, there are SF scenarios in which a person is fed false memories or virtual stimuli. And these are the only memories he ever had. That’s the only “world” he’s ever known.
But as SF buffs surely know, there are also SF scenarios in which we have the opposite phenomenon. For example, we have futuristic espionage scenarios in which an “asset” is kidnapped, sedated, and fed virtual stimuli.
In this virtual world, his actual memories remain intact. However, his actual memories are at odds with his virtual past.
The only way for him to escape is to divulge classified information to virtual characters–who seem utterly real. And the “escape” is, itself, a virtual illusion.
The point of this experiment is to make the asset doubt himself. He begins to question his memories. As a result, he starts to lower his resistance.
He would never voluntarily divulge classified information to an actual interrogator, but within the virtual world he’s no longer sure who he can trust or distrust–because he can no longer trust himself. Or so he thinks.
Although the asset begins to question everything he used to believe, that doesn’t alter the fact that he retains accurate memories of the real world. He doesn’t cease to know what the real world is like just because he begins to harbor doubts. It’s possible to doubt what you know–even though you know it.
Labels:
Empiricism,
Hays,
Skepticism
A Divided Front: Libertarians at odds with each other on the doctrine of PAP
In the many debates we've had with Arminians here, every singly one of them has brought up PAP (principle of alternative possibilities) as necessary for moral responsibility, and an obvious intuition that only one committed to determinism could deny.
However, many indeterminists deny PAP. Increasingly more and more, in fact.
Here's a few representative samples:
William Lane Craig: "But as you note, I’m a libertarian who thinks that causal determinism is incompatible with freedom. That doesn’t imply that I hold to the Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP), which states that a free agent has in a set of circumstances the ability to choose A or not-A. I’m persuaded that so long as an agent’s choice is not causally determined, it doesn’t matter if he can actually make a choice contrary to how he does choose. Suppose that God has decided to create you in a set of circumstances because He knew that in those circumstances you would make an undetermined choice to do A. Suppose further that had God instead known that if you were in those circumstances you would have made an undetermined choice to do not-A, then God would not have created you in those circumstances (maybe it would have loused up His providential plan!). In that case you do not have the ability in those circumstances to make the choice of not-A, but nevertheless your choice of A is, I think, clearly free, for it is causally unconstrained—it you who determines that A will be done. So the ability to do otherwise is not a necessary condition of free choice."
http://www.reasonablefaith.org/site/News2?page=NewsArticle&id=5827
Michael Bergmann: "One thing that makes Frankfurt’s proposed counterexample to PAP interesting is that it is supposed to be successful even if the sort of moral responsibility at issue is fairly robust – i.e., of the sort in which an incompatibilist and not merely a compatibilist is interested. Recently, however, Frankfurt’s criticism of PAP has come under attack precisely because it (supposedly) fails when the focus is full-blooded moral responsibility of the sort that incompatibilists care about.[ii] The suggestion is that such counterexamples to PAP are successful only if one assumes the falsity of incompatibilism.
In this paper, I will defend Frankfurt’s criticism against this charge. My aim is to design a Frankfurt-style counterexample to PAP that doesn’t take for granted the falsity of incompatibilism."
http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~bergmann/frankfurt.htm
David Hunt: "For example, if I murder someone, and in so doing satisfy the most exacting conditions for free will, except that an irresistible power (a demon, crazed neurologist, etc.) would have forced me to murder the person if I hadn’t done so on my own, this last factor does not appear to mitigate my responsibility in the least. Here no alternative to murder is available to me (so PAP is unsatisfied), but I am nevertheless free and responsible for what I do, since the factor excluding alternatives makes no causal contribution to my actions, and indeed makes no difference to what actually happens. The same can be said in cases involving divine foreknowledge. God’s foreknowledge of the murder may make it unavoidable, but it does so without making any causal contribution to murder, which would have occurred just as it did in the absence of divine foreknowledge."
--David Hunt, ‘On Augustine’s Way Out’, Faith and Philosophy, Volume 16, Number 1, (January 1999), 17.
Linda Zagzebski: some philosophers have argued that PAP is false even if we have libertarian free will. I have given such an argument (Zagzebski 1991), as has David Hunt (1999). Hunt (1996b, 1999) argues that the rejection of PAP from the perspective of a defender of libertarian freedom can be found in Augustine, but even if that is true, it is not a position historically associated with Augustine. The literature that clearly distinguishes the claim that free will requires alternate possibilities from the claim that free will requires the falsehood of determinism is contemporary. The former is a thesis about events in counterfactual circumstances, whereas the latter is a thesis about the locus of causal control in the actual circumstances. Aside from the foreknowledge literature, support for the rejection of PAP from the perspective of a free will/determinism incompatibilist can be found in Stump (1990, 1996), Zagzebski (2000), and Pereboom (2000).
http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/free-will-foreknowledge/
Eleonore Stump: "Some defenders of the principle of alternative possibilities (PAP) have responded to the challenge of Frankfurt-style counterexamples (FSCs) to PAP by arguing that there remains a flicker of freedom -- that is, an alternative possibility for action -- left to the agent in FSCs. I argue that the flicker of freedom strategy is unsuccessful. The strategy requires the supposition that doing an act-on-one''s-own is itself an action of sorts. I argue that either this supposition is confused and leads to counter-intuitive results; or, if the supposition is acceptable, then it is possible to use it to construct a FSC in which there is no flicker of freedom at all. Either way, the flicker of freedom strategy is ineffective against FSCs. Since the flicker of freedom strategy is arguably the best defense of PAP, I conclude that FSCs are successful in showing that PAP is false. An agent can act with moral responsibility without having alternative possibilities available to her."
--Eleonore Stump, 'Alternative possibilities and moral responsibility: The flicker of freedom.' (1999) Journal of Ethics 3 (4):299-324.
However, many indeterminists deny PAP. Increasingly more and more, in fact.
Here's a few representative samples:
William Lane Craig: "But as you note, I’m a libertarian who thinks that causal determinism is incompatible with freedom. That doesn’t imply that I hold to the Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP), which states that a free agent has in a set of circumstances the ability to choose A or not-A. I’m persuaded that so long as an agent’s choice is not causally determined, it doesn’t matter if he can actually make a choice contrary to how he does choose. Suppose that God has decided to create you in a set of circumstances because He knew that in those circumstances you would make an undetermined choice to do A. Suppose further that had God instead known that if you were in those circumstances you would have made an undetermined choice to do not-A, then God would not have created you in those circumstances (maybe it would have loused up His providential plan!). In that case you do not have the ability in those circumstances to make the choice of not-A, but nevertheless your choice of A is, I think, clearly free, for it is causally unconstrained—it you who determines that A will be done. So the ability to do otherwise is not a necessary condition of free choice."
http://www.reasonablefaith.org/site/News2?page=NewsArticle&id=5827
Michael Bergmann: "One thing that makes Frankfurt’s proposed counterexample to PAP interesting is that it is supposed to be successful even if the sort of moral responsibility at issue is fairly robust – i.e., of the sort in which an incompatibilist and not merely a compatibilist is interested. Recently, however, Frankfurt’s criticism of PAP has come under attack precisely because it (supposedly) fails when the focus is full-blooded moral responsibility of the sort that incompatibilists care about.[ii] The suggestion is that such counterexamples to PAP are successful only if one assumes the falsity of incompatibilism.
In this paper, I will defend Frankfurt’s criticism against this charge. My aim is to design a Frankfurt-style counterexample to PAP that doesn’t take for granted the falsity of incompatibilism."
http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~bergmann/frankfurt.htm
David Hunt: "For example, if I murder someone, and in so doing satisfy the most exacting conditions for free will, except that an irresistible power (a demon, crazed neurologist, etc.) would have forced me to murder the person if I hadn’t done so on my own, this last factor does not appear to mitigate my responsibility in the least. Here no alternative to murder is available to me (so PAP is unsatisfied), but I am nevertheless free and responsible for what I do, since the factor excluding alternatives makes no causal contribution to my actions, and indeed makes no difference to what actually happens. The same can be said in cases involving divine foreknowledge. God’s foreknowledge of the murder may make it unavoidable, but it does so without making any causal contribution to murder, which would have occurred just as it did in the absence of divine foreknowledge."
--David Hunt, ‘On Augustine’s Way Out’, Faith and Philosophy, Volume 16, Number 1, (January 1999), 17.
Linda Zagzebski: some philosophers have argued that PAP is false even if we have libertarian free will. I have given such an argument (Zagzebski 1991), as has David Hunt (1999). Hunt (1996b, 1999) argues that the rejection of PAP from the perspective of a defender of libertarian freedom can be found in Augustine, but even if that is true, it is not a position historically associated with Augustine. The literature that clearly distinguishes the claim that free will requires alternate possibilities from the claim that free will requires the falsehood of determinism is contemporary. The former is a thesis about events in counterfactual circumstances, whereas the latter is a thesis about the locus of causal control in the actual circumstances. Aside from the foreknowledge literature, support for the rejection of PAP from the perspective of a free will/determinism incompatibilist can be found in Stump (1990, 1996), Zagzebski (2000), and Pereboom (2000).
http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/free-will-foreknowledge/
Eleonore Stump: "Some defenders of the principle of alternative possibilities (PAP) have responded to the challenge of Frankfurt-style counterexamples (FSCs) to PAP by arguing that there remains a flicker of freedom -- that is, an alternative possibility for action -- left to the agent in FSCs. I argue that the flicker of freedom strategy is unsuccessful. The strategy requires the supposition that doing an act-on-one''s-own is itself an action of sorts. I argue that either this supposition is confused and leads to counter-intuitive results; or, if the supposition is acceptable, then it is possible to use it to construct a FSC in which there is no flicker of freedom at all. Either way, the flicker of freedom strategy is ineffective against FSCs. Since the flicker of freedom strategy is arguably the best defense of PAP, I conclude that FSCs are successful in showing that PAP is false. An agent can act with moral responsibility without having alternative possibilities available to her."
--Eleonore Stump, 'Alternative possibilities and moral responsibility: The flicker of freedom.' (1999) Journal of Ethics 3 (4):299-324.
Friday, June 05, 2009
How do you know?
"One naive objection to the axiom of revelation
crops up repeatedly: Don’t I have to read the Bible?
Don’t I have to know that I have a book in my
hands and that that book is the Bible? Don’t I have
to rely on the senses to obtain revelation?
First, this objection begs the epistemological
question, How does one know, by assuming that
one knows by means of the senses. But that is the
conclusion that ought to be proved. The proper
response to these questions is another series of
questions: How do you know you have a book in
your hands? How do you know that you are reading
it? What is sensation? What are perceptions? What
is abstraction? Tell us how some things called
sensations become the idea of God. The naive
question – Don’t you have to read the Bible? –
assumes that empiricism is true. It ignores all the
arguments demonstrating the cognitive failure of
empiricism."
http://www.trinityfoundation.org/PDF/101a-AnIntroductiontoGordonHClark.pdf
There are two basic problems with this riposte:
i) How do we know the arguments demonstrating the failure of empiricism? By what means, apart from sensory perception, do we come to know what those arguments are? How do we attain an irrefutable knowledge of these irrefutable arguments?
ii) How can a Clarkian ask “How do you know you have a book in your hands?” unless a Clarkian knows what a book is, and what a hand is? How did the Clarkian acquire his knowledge of sensory objects like books and hands–without which he couldn’t formulate a skeptical question about books and hands? How did a Clarkian acquire his knowledge of the English language–without which he couldn’t formulate a skeptical question in English?
The problem is not with question of the empiricist, but the question of the Clarkian. The problem is not with what the empiricist assumes, but what the Clarkian assumes in the very process of trying to deny his operating assumption.
The Clarkian couldn’t question the existence of hands and books unless he had some prior knowledge of what these were. Does the Clarkian think we’re born with a knowledge of books and hands? Are we born knowing every book in the Library of Congress?
crops up repeatedly: Don’t I have to read the Bible?
Don’t I have to know that I have a book in my
hands and that that book is the Bible? Don’t I have
to rely on the senses to obtain revelation?
First, this objection begs the epistemological
question, How does one know, by assuming that
one knows by means of the senses. But that is the
conclusion that ought to be proved. The proper
response to these questions is another series of
questions: How do you know you have a book in
your hands? How do you know that you are reading
it? What is sensation? What are perceptions? What
is abstraction? Tell us how some things called
sensations become the idea of God. The naive
question – Don’t you have to read the Bible? –
assumes that empiricism is true. It ignores all the
arguments demonstrating the cognitive failure of
empiricism."
http://www.trinityfoundation.org/PDF/101a-AnIntroductiontoGordonHClark.pdf
There are two basic problems with this riposte:
i) How do we know the arguments demonstrating the failure of empiricism? By what means, apart from sensory perception, do we come to know what those arguments are? How do we attain an irrefutable knowledge of these irrefutable arguments?
ii) How can a Clarkian ask “How do you know you have a book in your hands?” unless a Clarkian knows what a book is, and what a hand is? How did the Clarkian acquire his knowledge of sensory objects like books and hands–without which he couldn’t formulate a skeptical question about books and hands? How did a Clarkian acquire his knowledge of the English language–without which he couldn’t formulate a skeptical question in English?
The problem is not with question of the empiricist, but the question of the Clarkian. The problem is not with what the empiricist assumes, but what the Clarkian assumes in the very process of trying to deny his operating assumption.
The Clarkian couldn’t question the existence of hands and books unless he had some prior knowledge of what these were. Does the Clarkian think we’re born with a knowledge of books and hands? Are we born knowing every book in the Library of Congress?
Labels:
Epistemology,
Hays,
Scripturalism
Innate knowledge
“Now, it seems to me that even the skimpy material in Genesis is sufficient to refute empiricism with its
blank mind…Even apart from the explicit statements in the New Testament, Genesis says that God commanded Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply. Since at that time they had no sensory experience of other people, must they not have had some innate intelligence to understand this command? Of course, an empiricist might insist that they had learned the meaning from observing animals. But this assumes that a fair length of time intervened between the creation of Adam and God’s imposition
of the obligation. One can better suppose that God gave instructions to Adam more immediately. This is rather obviously true of Genesis 2:16, 17. The command was given only moments after the creation. Of course, such a command was not a
priori knowledge, but the intellectual equipment to understand it was.”
http://www.trinityfoundation.org/PDF/034a-HowDoWeLearn.pdf
I myself don’t object to the idea that man possesses a certain amount of innate knowledge. That said, Clark’s exegetical inference suffers from two or three basic problems:
1.Clark is resorting to induction. He’s drawing a universal inference from a sampling of just two human beings!
2.Another problem with Clark’s argument from analogy is the fact that the situation of Adam and Eve is, in some degree, sui generis. They didn’t pass through the usual process of conception, gestation, childhood, and adolescence to reach maturity. Rather, they were created as adults. They were grown-ups without growing up. So, to be functional adults, they would have to be equipped with a fair amount of innate knowledge.
But Clark cannot validly extrapolate from their unique creation to the experience of their posterity–for there are some fundamental disanalogies between our situation and theirs.
3.In addition, Adam and Eve didn’t have the Bible. They didn’t even have the Book of Genesis.
So their experience is diametrically at odds with Scripturalism, according to which all knowledge is derivable from Scripture.
blank mind…Even apart from the explicit statements in the New Testament, Genesis says that God commanded Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply. Since at that time they had no sensory experience of other people, must they not have had some innate intelligence to understand this command? Of course, an empiricist might insist that they had learned the meaning from observing animals. But this assumes that a fair length of time intervened between the creation of Adam and God’s imposition
of the obligation. One can better suppose that God gave instructions to Adam more immediately. This is rather obviously true of Genesis 2:16, 17. The command was given only moments after the creation. Of course, such a command was not a
priori knowledge, but the intellectual equipment to understand it was.”
http://www.trinityfoundation.org/PDF/034a-HowDoWeLearn.pdf
I myself don’t object to the idea that man possesses a certain amount of innate knowledge. That said, Clark’s exegetical inference suffers from two or three basic problems:
1.Clark is resorting to induction. He’s drawing a universal inference from a sampling of just two human beings!
2.Another problem with Clark’s argument from analogy is the fact that the situation of Adam and Eve is, in some degree, sui generis. They didn’t pass through the usual process of conception, gestation, childhood, and adolescence to reach maturity. Rather, they were created as adults. They were grown-ups without growing up. So, to be functional adults, they would have to be equipped with a fair amount of innate knowledge.
But Clark cannot validly extrapolate from their unique creation to the experience of their posterity–for there are some fundamental disanalogies between our situation and theirs.
3.In addition, Adam and Eve didn’t have the Bible. They didn’t even have the Book of Genesis.
So their experience is diametrically at odds with Scripturalism, according to which all knowledge is derivable from Scripture.
Christian discourse
Reading through his introduction to Jude, I see that Gene Green confirms something I’ve been saying for years: the use of judgmental, ad hominem language to characterize your theological opponents is a part of Biblical discourse. As such, there’s no reason to treat this mode of discourse as inherently unchristian or unscriptural. Of course, certain conditions must be met to justify this usage.
“We can recognize in Jude’s rhetorical strategy the use of techniques common to vituperatio, the ‘rhetoric of slander’ (Johnson 1989: 420), which was the counterpoint to laudatio, the praise of noble character and deeds. As du Toit (1994: 403) observes, ‘Vilifying your opponent, like praising your addressees, has through the centuries been a useful persuasive weapon from the arsenal of a skilled speaker or writer.’ Vituperatio was a recognized skill that was even taught to students or rhetoric,” G. Green, Jude & 2 Peter (Baker 2008), 20-21).
“Jude’s rhetorical strategy is clearly formative as well. He wants the readers to continue in Christian virtue and avoid the vice of the heretics. He does not intend to persuade the heretics. In vituperatio, a person would employ well-known topoi in the denunciation of others…These themes were so well used that they even became part of the syllabus of rhetoric. Jewish rhetoric likewise employed vilification for similar ends…the categories used in Jewish rhetoric were quite similar to the gentile counterparts, even among Palestinian Jews (Johnson 1989:434-41),” ibid. 21.
“In light of ancient techniques of vilification, how should we read Jude’s denunciation of his opponents? Analyzing Jude along with 2 Peter in the light of speech act theory, du Toit (1994: 403) states, ‘For many a long day the performative dimension of language has been neglected in favor of the propositional. This is also true for NT studies. We have too long neglected the fact that in one way or another each of these writings seeks to persuade its readers/audience in a certain direction. To ask what a NT text is doing is at least as important as asking what it is saying.” He concludes, “Ideological literature works with contrasts; it does not seek the neutral middle-field. It creates heroes and villains’,” ibid. 21-22.
“So while the standard denunciations were employed in vituperatio, they could become specific when directed at a particular case. This is precisely what happens in Jude…Jude employs these conventional charges in ways specific to the situation his readers faced,” ibid. 22.
“We can recognize in Jude’s rhetorical strategy the use of techniques common to vituperatio, the ‘rhetoric of slander’ (Johnson 1989: 420), which was the counterpoint to laudatio, the praise of noble character and deeds. As du Toit (1994: 403) observes, ‘Vilifying your opponent, like praising your addressees, has through the centuries been a useful persuasive weapon from the arsenal of a skilled speaker or writer.’ Vituperatio was a recognized skill that was even taught to students or rhetoric,” G. Green, Jude & 2 Peter (Baker 2008), 20-21).
“Jude’s rhetorical strategy is clearly formative as well. He wants the readers to continue in Christian virtue and avoid the vice of the heretics. He does not intend to persuade the heretics. In vituperatio, a person would employ well-known topoi in the denunciation of others…These themes were so well used that they even became part of the syllabus of rhetoric. Jewish rhetoric likewise employed vilification for similar ends…the categories used in Jewish rhetoric were quite similar to the gentile counterparts, even among Palestinian Jews (Johnson 1989:434-41),” ibid. 21.
“In light of ancient techniques of vilification, how should we read Jude’s denunciation of his opponents? Analyzing Jude along with 2 Peter in the light of speech act theory, du Toit (1994: 403) states, ‘For many a long day the performative dimension of language has been neglected in favor of the propositional. This is also true for NT studies. We have too long neglected the fact that in one way or another each of these writings seeks to persuade its readers/audience in a certain direction. To ask what a NT text is doing is at least as important as asking what it is saying.” He concludes, “Ideological literature works with contrasts; it does not seek the neutral middle-field. It creates heroes and villains’,” ibid. 21-22.
“So while the standard denunciations were employed in vituperatio, they could become specific when directed at a particular case. This is precisely what happens in Jude…Jude employs these conventional charges in ways specific to the situation his readers faced,” ibid. 22.
Arminian favoritism
”Steve Hays recently called Arminians (and Josh in particular) hypocrites for not opposing my teaching eternal security. (link) It’s unclear if he means they should oppose eternal security (since he cites case where Josh does) or if Steve means they should oppose me personally.”
http://www.arminianchronicles.com/2009/06/conversion-and-continuation-response-to.html
i) Actually, they shouldn’t oppose eternal security. They should espouse eternal security (or perseverance)–along with the other four points of Calvinism.
ii) However, my point, which I clearly made in my original, is that they ought to apply a consistent standard.
“Steve, please consider assuming a more charitable reason other than hypocrisy for the lack of personal opposition.”
I’ll consider a more charitable interpretation if and when they offer a principled explanation for why they play favorites.
But it’s not as if Josh, for one, left himself much elbowroom. To the contrary, he went out of his way to state his opposition in the most uncompromising terms he could muster.
“Faith isn’t a choice; it’s a result of one. Repentance is a choice, but faith is not. So I disagree the inception and continuation of faith are the same.”
Several problems:
i) Dan needs to explain how repentance is in voluntary, but faith is involuntary. He needs to explain how that dichotomy is psychologically tenable.
ii) He also needs to defend his dichotomy from Scripture.
iii) In addition, he needs to explain how faith is not a choice, but merely a result of choice. Even on libertarian grounds, how does this work out? How do we believe something unless we find it believable? And if we find it believable, then don’t we already believe it? Likewise, how do we disbelieve something unless we find it unbelievable? And if we find it unbelievable, then don’t we already disbelieve it?
So where does choice come into play? Does Dan think we choose to find something believable or unbelievable? Is that a psychologically realistic claim?
iv) Even if we accept Dan’s distinction, it’s a distinction without a difference. If faith is the result of a free choice (“free” in libertarian terms), then we control the resultant faith by controlling the choice which results in faith.
This does nothing to avoid my point that, on libertarian grounds, an individual is free to either believe in Christ or disbelieve in Christ.
v) Apropos (iv), how does perseverant faith differ from saving faith? Doesn’t saving faith require us to repent of our sins and trust in Christ? Doesn’t perseverant faith require us to repent of our sins and trust in Christ?
Why is conversion ultimately voluntary (i.e. the result of a libertarian choice), but perseverance is ultimately involuntary (i.e. not the result of a libertarian choice)?
Why does the freedom to do otherwise apply to conversion, but not to perseverance?
“On the other hand, we are warned about neglecting not just repudiating salvation (Heb 2:1-3). We can slip away, like a ring slipping off a finger.”
Meaning what? Apostasy? But Dan denies that this is a live possibility. And if he’s referring to something which falls short of apostasy, then it’s irrelevant to the point at issue.
“So while I am not suggesting we should be passive about perseverance or maintaining faith, I am suggesting conversion and continuation are asymmetrical. I think the way it works is that as we work, we see God working in our lives and it strengthens our faith.”
If anything, the libertarian logic of this would be just the opposite: to the extent that perseverance is cooperative in a way that conversion is not, perseverance would be voluntary in a way that conversions is not.
“I don’t disagree with non-OSAS Arminians on warning passages. I disagree with them on security passages and also in systematization.”
That’s disingenuous. Because he disagrees with them on “security passages,” he also disagrees with them on warning passage–since he interprets the warning passages in light of the security passages, contrary to the way in which they interpret warning passages.
“But I do hold we can fall away, I just don’t think we will.”
Of course, that’s a dodge. It sidesteps the question of why we won’t. We won’t because something is preventing us, keeping us, from falling. The “can’t” underwrites the “won’t.” The “won’t” is the effect of the “can’t.”
Without the “can’t,” you have no “won’t.”
http://www.arminianchronicles.com/2009/06/conversion-and-continuation-response-to.html
i) Actually, they shouldn’t oppose eternal security. They should espouse eternal security (or perseverance)–along with the other four points of Calvinism.
ii) However, my point, which I clearly made in my original, is that they ought to apply a consistent standard.
“Steve, please consider assuming a more charitable reason other than hypocrisy for the lack of personal opposition.”
I’ll consider a more charitable interpretation if and when they offer a principled explanation for why they play favorites.
But it’s not as if Josh, for one, left himself much elbowroom. To the contrary, he went out of his way to state his opposition in the most uncompromising terms he could muster.
“Faith isn’t a choice; it’s a result of one. Repentance is a choice, but faith is not. So I disagree the inception and continuation of faith are the same.”
Several problems:
i) Dan needs to explain how repentance is in voluntary, but faith is involuntary. He needs to explain how that dichotomy is psychologically tenable.
ii) He also needs to defend his dichotomy from Scripture.
iii) In addition, he needs to explain how faith is not a choice, but merely a result of choice. Even on libertarian grounds, how does this work out? How do we believe something unless we find it believable? And if we find it believable, then don’t we already believe it? Likewise, how do we disbelieve something unless we find it unbelievable? And if we find it unbelievable, then don’t we already disbelieve it?
So where does choice come into play? Does Dan think we choose to find something believable or unbelievable? Is that a psychologically realistic claim?
iv) Even if we accept Dan’s distinction, it’s a distinction without a difference. If faith is the result of a free choice (“free” in libertarian terms), then we control the resultant faith by controlling the choice which results in faith.
This does nothing to avoid my point that, on libertarian grounds, an individual is free to either believe in Christ or disbelieve in Christ.
v) Apropos (iv), how does perseverant faith differ from saving faith? Doesn’t saving faith require us to repent of our sins and trust in Christ? Doesn’t perseverant faith require us to repent of our sins and trust in Christ?
Why is conversion ultimately voluntary (i.e. the result of a libertarian choice), but perseverance is ultimately involuntary (i.e. not the result of a libertarian choice)?
Why does the freedom to do otherwise apply to conversion, but not to perseverance?
“On the other hand, we are warned about neglecting not just repudiating salvation (Heb 2:1-3). We can slip away, like a ring slipping off a finger.”
Meaning what? Apostasy? But Dan denies that this is a live possibility. And if he’s referring to something which falls short of apostasy, then it’s irrelevant to the point at issue.
“So while I am not suggesting we should be passive about perseverance or maintaining faith, I am suggesting conversion and continuation are asymmetrical. I think the way it works is that as we work, we see God working in our lives and it strengthens our faith.”
If anything, the libertarian logic of this would be just the opposite: to the extent that perseverance is cooperative in a way that conversion is not, perseverance would be voluntary in a way that conversions is not.
“I don’t disagree with non-OSAS Arminians on warning passages. I disagree with them on security passages and also in systematization.”
That’s disingenuous. Because he disagrees with them on “security passages,” he also disagrees with them on warning passage–since he interprets the warning passages in light of the security passages, contrary to the way in which they interpret warning passages.
“But I do hold we can fall away, I just don’t think we will.”
Of course, that’s a dodge. It sidesteps the question of why we won’t. We won’t because something is preventing us, keeping us, from falling. The “can’t” underwrites the “won’t.” The “won’t” is the effect of the “can’t.”
Without the “can’t,” you have no “won’t.”
Labels:
Apostasy,
Arminianism,
Calvinism,
Hays,
Perseverance
All in the family
Catholic apologists often belabor the alleged scandal of a divided Christendom. According to them, unbelievers are scandalized by the fact that Christians can’t get along with one another. That, so we’re told, is a major reason why many unbelievers are unbelievers in the first place. Christian divisions are a major turn-off. This is what drives many unbelievers away from the church, away from the faith.
If every Christian were Catholic, if every Christian belonged to the church of Rome, then this would remove a major obstacle which impedes many unbelievers from coming to the faith.
What are we to make of this argument. From what I’ve read, Catholic apologists never get beyond the ecumenical abstraction. They’re in love with the idea of ecumenical reunion. But they don’t stop to think through the practical consequences of their position.
Why is that? Well, they take this position because they’re supposed to. That’s the official position of their church. The party line. It’s your duty to say that.
For Catholic apologists, ecumenical reunion is a wonderful and dutiful ideal which all of us should all strive to turn into a concrete reality.
But let’s pause a moment to consider the reaction of outsider or unbelievers if this actually took place.
Suppose we conducted one of those impromptu, man-on-the-street surveys in which we random interview pedestrians in Times Square. We begin by asking if they’re Christian.
If they answer in the affirmative, we don’t ask any further questions. The purpose of this survey is to poll the opinions of unbelievers, not professing believers. The folks who are allegedly offended by the scandal of sectarianism.
Having eliminated the professing believers, we pose a couple of follow-up questions for the admitted unbelievers. Suppose it took the form of a verbal, free association test.
Suppose we began by asking our friendly pedestrian a question like: “When you think of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, what’s the first word that comes to mind?”
I daresay that in many or most cases, the average pedestrian would draw a blank. They have no opinion of the OPC. That’s the first time they ever heard of the OPC.
Suppose we followed up that question by asking our friendly pedestrian, “When you think of the Roman Catholic Church, what’s the first word that comes to mind?”
I suspect that we’d score far more hits on that question. Many people have an opinion about the Catholic church. The Catholic church is a very famous institution. For many, indeed, it’s not merely famous–but positively infamous.
It’s constantly covered in the national and international news. In addition, the Catholic church is the explicit or implicit backdrop for countless movies, TV dramas, and TV sitcoms. And much of this treatment is hostile to Catholicism.
You also have a lot of lapsed Catholics with strong opinions about they church they left.
So the notorious reputation of the Catholic church precedes it. For the moment, I’m not discussing whether popular impressions of the Catholic church are fair or unfair, true or false. That’s not the point.
Remember the original argument. Unbelievers are said to be scandalized by divisions within Christendom. If only all of the “separated brethren” came back home, returned to Mother Church, then that would be a powerful witness to an unbelieving world. That would solidify our witness to the unbelieving world.
So this is an argument based on public perception. Subjective impressions.
But in that case we need to ask ourselves, when unbelievers think of the Catholic church, what do they think of? What associations spring to mind?
At the risk of stating the obvious, many unbelievers have very negative opinions of the Catholic church. The Catholic church has an image problem.
They regard the Catholic church as a sexist and homophobic institution. They think of the Crusades and the Inquisition. They think of pedophile priests. They disapprove of its positions on contraception and abortion. And so on and so forth.
In brief, many unbelievers are offended by what, in their own mind, the Catholic church stands for.
Even if, for the sake of argument, you think they suffer from an ignorant misimpression of what the Catholic church really stands for, that’s irrelevant to the point at issue. Remember the original argument: unbelievers are said to be offended by divisions within Christendom. The way to remove this stumbling block is to heal the divisions by reuniting with the Catholic church.
But if many unbelievers, rightly or wrongly, are offended by the Catholic church, then this is not a recipe for winning converts to the Christian cause. To the contrary, that would be quite counterproductive.
For many unbelievers, “Catholic” is a loaded word. By contrast, “Presbyterian” may be neutral, simply because they know next to nothing about Presbyterians.
Suppose a Presbyterian were to become a Catholic. He would instantly inherit all of the sodden baggage that’s associated with the Catholic church.
Moreover, it’s not as if the Catholic church presents a solid front. The Catholic church has very lax standards of membership. Take the case of Hans Küng. Küng is a famous Catholic dissident. Yet Küng has never been excommunicated. Indeed, Küng has never been defrocked. He’s still a priest in good standing.
If every Christian belonged to the same denomination–in this case, the Catholic church–you’d still have high profile dissidents within the membership. You’d still have lots of in-fighting. Internecine warfare–which the news media would be more than happy to headline.
Yes, Catholic apologists try to distinguish between the unity of the Church’s official teaching and renegades like Küng. But even if you think that’s a theoretically coherent way to harmonize the internal divisions, remember the target audience. The question at issue is not how someone who is already a pious Catholic can finesse these internal divisions, but how that appears to the outside world. To someone not automatically sympathetic to Rome. Indeed, to someone who may well be antagonistic to Catholic church.
Or take the case of Catholic celebrities like Ted Kennedy. Many Catholic politicians disregard their Church’s teaching on abortion with complete impunity. So it’s not as if the public image of modern Catholicism is distinguished by its show of unity.
Furthermore, if every Christian were Catholic, then every Christian scandal would be a Catholic scandal. That would further tarnish the already tarnished image of Christendom.
Does the Catholic church really want to add all of the televangelists to its roster? Would having Jim and Tammy Faye, John Hagee, Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jimmy Swaggart, Robert Tilton, Jeremiah Wright, et al. on the membership rolls burnish its public image?
Finally, to consider just one additional issue, the Catholic church is already a multi-billion dollar corporation. And if all professing believers were members, that would double its size.
Because the Catholic church is so huge, it has to process billions of dollars a year. That creates an incentive of corporate accounting scandals which utterly dwarf many middling and piddling Protestant churches.
If every Christian were Catholic, if every Christian belonged to the church of Rome, then this would remove a major obstacle which impedes many unbelievers from coming to the faith.
What are we to make of this argument. From what I’ve read, Catholic apologists never get beyond the ecumenical abstraction. They’re in love with the idea of ecumenical reunion. But they don’t stop to think through the practical consequences of their position.
Why is that? Well, they take this position because they’re supposed to. That’s the official position of their church. The party line. It’s your duty to say that.
For Catholic apologists, ecumenical reunion is a wonderful and dutiful ideal which all of us should all strive to turn into a concrete reality.
But let’s pause a moment to consider the reaction of outsider or unbelievers if this actually took place.
Suppose we conducted one of those impromptu, man-on-the-street surveys in which we random interview pedestrians in Times Square. We begin by asking if they’re Christian.
If they answer in the affirmative, we don’t ask any further questions. The purpose of this survey is to poll the opinions of unbelievers, not professing believers. The folks who are allegedly offended by the scandal of sectarianism.
Having eliminated the professing believers, we pose a couple of follow-up questions for the admitted unbelievers. Suppose it took the form of a verbal, free association test.
Suppose we began by asking our friendly pedestrian a question like: “When you think of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, what’s the first word that comes to mind?”
I daresay that in many or most cases, the average pedestrian would draw a blank. They have no opinion of the OPC. That’s the first time they ever heard of the OPC.
Suppose we followed up that question by asking our friendly pedestrian, “When you think of the Roman Catholic Church, what’s the first word that comes to mind?”
I suspect that we’d score far more hits on that question. Many people have an opinion about the Catholic church. The Catholic church is a very famous institution. For many, indeed, it’s not merely famous–but positively infamous.
It’s constantly covered in the national and international news. In addition, the Catholic church is the explicit or implicit backdrop for countless movies, TV dramas, and TV sitcoms. And much of this treatment is hostile to Catholicism.
You also have a lot of lapsed Catholics with strong opinions about they church they left.
So the notorious reputation of the Catholic church precedes it. For the moment, I’m not discussing whether popular impressions of the Catholic church are fair or unfair, true or false. That’s not the point.
Remember the original argument. Unbelievers are said to be scandalized by divisions within Christendom. If only all of the “separated brethren” came back home, returned to Mother Church, then that would be a powerful witness to an unbelieving world. That would solidify our witness to the unbelieving world.
So this is an argument based on public perception. Subjective impressions.
But in that case we need to ask ourselves, when unbelievers think of the Catholic church, what do they think of? What associations spring to mind?
At the risk of stating the obvious, many unbelievers have very negative opinions of the Catholic church. The Catholic church has an image problem.
They regard the Catholic church as a sexist and homophobic institution. They think of the Crusades and the Inquisition. They think of pedophile priests. They disapprove of its positions on contraception and abortion. And so on and so forth.
In brief, many unbelievers are offended by what, in their own mind, the Catholic church stands for.
Even if, for the sake of argument, you think they suffer from an ignorant misimpression of what the Catholic church really stands for, that’s irrelevant to the point at issue. Remember the original argument: unbelievers are said to be offended by divisions within Christendom. The way to remove this stumbling block is to heal the divisions by reuniting with the Catholic church.
But if many unbelievers, rightly or wrongly, are offended by the Catholic church, then this is not a recipe for winning converts to the Christian cause. To the contrary, that would be quite counterproductive.
For many unbelievers, “Catholic” is a loaded word. By contrast, “Presbyterian” may be neutral, simply because they know next to nothing about Presbyterians.
Suppose a Presbyterian were to become a Catholic. He would instantly inherit all of the sodden baggage that’s associated with the Catholic church.
Moreover, it’s not as if the Catholic church presents a solid front. The Catholic church has very lax standards of membership. Take the case of Hans Küng. Küng is a famous Catholic dissident. Yet Küng has never been excommunicated. Indeed, Küng has never been defrocked. He’s still a priest in good standing.
If every Christian belonged to the same denomination–in this case, the Catholic church–you’d still have high profile dissidents within the membership. You’d still have lots of in-fighting. Internecine warfare–which the news media would be more than happy to headline.
Yes, Catholic apologists try to distinguish between the unity of the Church’s official teaching and renegades like Küng. But even if you think that’s a theoretically coherent way to harmonize the internal divisions, remember the target audience. The question at issue is not how someone who is already a pious Catholic can finesse these internal divisions, but how that appears to the outside world. To someone not automatically sympathetic to Rome. Indeed, to someone who may well be antagonistic to Catholic church.
Or take the case of Catholic celebrities like Ted Kennedy. Many Catholic politicians disregard their Church’s teaching on abortion with complete impunity. So it’s not as if the public image of modern Catholicism is distinguished by its show of unity.
Furthermore, if every Christian were Catholic, then every Christian scandal would be a Catholic scandal. That would further tarnish the already tarnished image of Christendom.
Does the Catholic church really want to add all of the televangelists to its roster? Would having Jim and Tammy Faye, John Hagee, Benny Hinn, Peter Popoff, Jimmy Swaggart, Robert Tilton, Jeremiah Wright, et al. on the membership rolls burnish its public image?
Finally, to consider just one additional issue, the Catholic church is already a multi-billion dollar corporation. And if all professing believers were members, that would double its size.
Because the Catholic church is so huge, it has to process billions of dollars a year. That creates an incentive of corporate accounting scandals which utterly dwarf many middling and piddling Protestant churches.
Labels:
Catholicism,
ecumenism,
Hays
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Prolife purism
Some Christians are prolife purists. They don’t think you should try to do anything unless you try to do everything. You shouldn’t try to save any babies unless you try to save every baby–even if that isn’t a realistic possibility. As a result, they sacrifice innocent life on the altar of their ideological purity.
Let’s begin with a comparison. Should I save the life of a drowning swimmer? Should I save any drowning swimmer unless I save every drowning swimmer?
Well, it all depends.
1.To begin with, someone may be at risk of drowning because he’s a weak swimmer. In a case like that, if you’re a strong swimmer, then you’re at no particular risk of drowning if you dive in to save him.
On the other hand, someone may be at risk of drowning because he was caught in a rip-current, or because he fell into the rapids while he was rafting, or because a shark attacked him.
In that case, you may be assuming the same risk if you dive in to save him.
Likewise, someone may be at risk of drowning if he took a foolish risk. If he was responding to a dare.
2.That brings us to the next point.
Our social obligations vary from person to person.
i) In some cases, it’s a pretty risk-free endeavor to save a drowning swimmer. All things being equal, if you can save him, you should.
ii) Even then, there are exceptions. Suppose a convicted murderer escapes prison. Suppose I’m a deputy. I’m in hot pursuit.
The convict is on foot. To avoid apprehension, he jumps off a bridge. But the water is turbulent, and he’s in danger of drowning. Is it my duty to jump in to try and save his life?
No. There’s no reason I should risk my life to save his life. Not in the case of a convicted murderer.
iii) Suppose someone is a risk of drowning because he did something foolhardy. Should I put myself at risk to save him?
Not necessarily. It’s tragic if he dies, but his reckless action doesn’t obligate me to take a similar risk. He’s responsible for his own actions. And I, too, must be a responsible steward of the life that God has given me.
If someone does something reckless, he can’t expect someone else to put himself in danger to save him from the perilous consequences of his foolhardy behavior.
For one thing, we have other social obligations. If we kill ourselves in the process, we can’t provide for others who have a higher claim on our allegiance.
iv) Suppose, once again, that in order to save the individual, you’d be assuming a personal risk. But suppose the person in question is a close friend or family member–or a young child who fell into the rapids.
In cases like that, there’s a higher obligation to assume a higher risk.
To vary the metaphor, suppose your brother comes down with a contagious and potentially fatal disease. He’s helpless to provide for himself. He won’t survive without you by his bedside day and night. He may not survive even if you’re there to help him.
But prolonged contact puts you at risk of contracting the same potentially fatal disease. What should you do? Save yourself or try to save him?
In a case like that, your duty is to your brother, even if you both die in the process. However, you don’t have the same degree of obligation to a perfect stranger.
I’ll close with an exchange I had over at Justin Taylor’s blog:
************************************************
JaredLorence said...
Saletan's email is human@slate.com if anyone wishes to contact him.
I emailed him my basic problem with his reasoning...
"Towards the end of the article you argue that pro-lifers don't actually believe abortion is murder because they don't react violently towards abortionists like they would someone who kills elderly people. You write:
"You think you're pro-life. You tell yourself that abortion is murder. Maybe you even say that when a pollster calls. But like most of the other people who say such things in polls, you don't mean it literally."
I disagree. Like most Americans, I believe that OJ Simpson murdered his wife. Should my conviction be questioned because I never attempted to kill OJ?
6/03/2009 09:45:00 AM
steve said...
Strong Tower said...
“The problem with your argument is the fact that with OJ the system was applied. In the case of the murder of the unborn, the system is not working.”
His comparison was perfectly valid. The legal system was applied in both cases. Both OJ and Tiller were tried and acquitted. In both cases, the system failed. You’re equivocating.
“Why is the murderess mother not the focus of Pro-life groups along with the practioners? They are conspirators in the same crime. While it may be true she is being confused and mentally infected often with the evil propaganada of the left, she is not innocent. She is a murderer.”
No inconsistency at all. The primary objective of the prolife movement is preemptive rather than punitive. The goal is to prevent or minimize the occurrence of abortion. Hence, prolife organizations pursue legal remedies that have the greatest chance of being enacted into law.
6/03/2009 12:12:00 PM
steve said...
Strong Tower said...
"How do you preempt it? Keeping it legal? Not prosecuting the conspirators? Right, like that ever works."
Are you trying to be slow on the uptake? The logical is pretty obvious. An abortion is a procedure with at least two parties: the mother and the "doctor." You don't need to penalize both parties to curtail abortion. To penalize the doctor would be sufficient to vastly lower the rate of abortion.
And that is politically feasible in a way that penalizing the mother is not. Therefore, since responsible prolife organizations are trying to make use of preexisting political framework to implement their agenda, you favor initiatives that are more likely to enjoy political support. That's in the nature of the democratic process.
6/03/2009 06:38:00 PM
steve said...
At the risk of stating the obvious, moral compromise does not involve failing to do what it was never within your power to do in the first place.
Prolifers don't have the political clout to penalize women who undergo abortions. Faulting prolife organizations because they don't waste time and resources on a futile exercise is irrational on your part.
And, yes, it's better to save some innocent lives than to save no innocent lives unless you can save all innocent lives.
6/04/2009 12:29:00 PM
steve said...
BTW, if you think prolifers should invest time and effort in lobbying Congress or state legislatures to pass laws penalizing women who undergo abortions, then no one's stopping you. You're more than welcome to lead by example. Don't attack others for failing to do what you yourself fail to do. If you think that's doable, then do it.
And, in the meantime, don't sacrifice innocent lives (sparing as many babies as we can) on the altar of your utopian principles.
6/04/2009 12:38:00 PM
http://theologica.blogspot.com/2009/06/logic-of-saving-unborn-and-killing.html
Let’s begin with a comparison. Should I save the life of a drowning swimmer? Should I save any drowning swimmer unless I save every drowning swimmer?
Well, it all depends.
1.To begin with, someone may be at risk of drowning because he’s a weak swimmer. In a case like that, if you’re a strong swimmer, then you’re at no particular risk of drowning if you dive in to save him.
On the other hand, someone may be at risk of drowning because he was caught in a rip-current, or because he fell into the rapids while he was rafting, or because a shark attacked him.
In that case, you may be assuming the same risk if you dive in to save him.
Likewise, someone may be at risk of drowning if he took a foolish risk. If he was responding to a dare.
2.That brings us to the next point.
Our social obligations vary from person to person.
i) In some cases, it’s a pretty risk-free endeavor to save a drowning swimmer. All things being equal, if you can save him, you should.
ii) Even then, there are exceptions. Suppose a convicted murderer escapes prison. Suppose I’m a deputy. I’m in hot pursuit.
The convict is on foot. To avoid apprehension, he jumps off a bridge. But the water is turbulent, and he’s in danger of drowning. Is it my duty to jump in to try and save his life?
No. There’s no reason I should risk my life to save his life. Not in the case of a convicted murderer.
iii) Suppose someone is a risk of drowning because he did something foolhardy. Should I put myself at risk to save him?
Not necessarily. It’s tragic if he dies, but his reckless action doesn’t obligate me to take a similar risk. He’s responsible for his own actions. And I, too, must be a responsible steward of the life that God has given me.
If someone does something reckless, he can’t expect someone else to put himself in danger to save him from the perilous consequences of his foolhardy behavior.
For one thing, we have other social obligations. If we kill ourselves in the process, we can’t provide for others who have a higher claim on our allegiance.
iv) Suppose, once again, that in order to save the individual, you’d be assuming a personal risk. But suppose the person in question is a close friend or family member–or a young child who fell into the rapids.
In cases like that, there’s a higher obligation to assume a higher risk.
To vary the metaphor, suppose your brother comes down with a contagious and potentially fatal disease. He’s helpless to provide for himself. He won’t survive without you by his bedside day and night. He may not survive even if you’re there to help him.
But prolonged contact puts you at risk of contracting the same potentially fatal disease. What should you do? Save yourself or try to save him?
In a case like that, your duty is to your brother, even if you both die in the process. However, you don’t have the same degree of obligation to a perfect stranger.
I’ll close with an exchange I had over at Justin Taylor’s blog:
************************************************
JaredLorence said...
Saletan's email is human@slate.com if anyone wishes to contact him.
I emailed him my basic problem with his reasoning...
"Towards the end of the article you argue that pro-lifers don't actually believe abortion is murder because they don't react violently towards abortionists like they would someone who kills elderly people. You write:
"You think you're pro-life. You tell yourself that abortion is murder. Maybe you even say that when a pollster calls. But like most of the other people who say such things in polls, you don't mean it literally."
I disagree. Like most Americans, I believe that OJ Simpson murdered his wife. Should my conviction be questioned because I never attempted to kill OJ?
6/03/2009 09:45:00 AM
steve said...
Strong Tower said...
“The problem with your argument is the fact that with OJ the system was applied. In the case of the murder of the unborn, the system is not working.”
His comparison was perfectly valid. The legal system was applied in both cases. Both OJ and Tiller were tried and acquitted. In both cases, the system failed. You’re equivocating.
“Why is the murderess mother not the focus of Pro-life groups along with the practioners? They are conspirators in the same crime. While it may be true she is being confused and mentally infected often with the evil propaganada of the left, she is not innocent. She is a murderer.”
No inconsistency at all. The primary objective of the prolife movement is preemptive rather than punitive. The goal is to prevent or minimize the occurrence of abortion. Hence, prolife organizations pursue legal remedies that have the greatest chance of being enacted into law.
6/03/2009 12:12:00 PM
steve said...
Strong Tower said...
"How do you preempt it? Keeping it legal? Not prosecuting the conspirators? Right, like that ever works."
Are you trying to be slow on the uptake? The logical is pretty obvious. An abortion is a procedure with at least two parties: the mother and the "doctor." You don't need to penalize both parties to curtail abortion. To penalize the doctor would be sufficient to vastly lower the rate of abortion.
And that is politically feasible in a way that penalizing the mother is not. Therefore, since responsible prolife organizations are trying to make use of preexisting political framework to implement their agenda, you favor initiatives that are more likely to enjoy political support. That's in the nature of the democratic process.
6/03/2009 06:38:00 PM
steve said...
At the risk of stating the obvious, moral compromise does not involve failing to do what it was never within your power to do in the first place.
Prolifers don't have the political clout to penalize women who undergo abortions. Faulting prolife organizations because they don't waste time and resources on a futile exercise is irrational on your part.
And, yes, it's better to save some innocent lives than to save no innocent lives unless you can save all innocent lives.
6/04/2009 12:29:00 PM
steve said...
BTW, if you think prolifers should invest time and effort in lobbying Congress or state legislatures to pass laws penalizing women who undergo abortions, then no one's stopping you. You're more than welcome to lead by example. Don't attack others for failing to do what you yourself fail to do. If you think that's doable, then do it.
And, in the meantime, don't sacrifice innocent lives (sparing as many babies as we can) on the altar of your utopian principles.
6/04/2009 12:38:00 PM
http://theologica.blogspot.com/2009/06/logic-of-saving-unborn-and-killing.html
Labels:
abortion,
Culture Wars,
ethics,
Hays,
Politics
Porcine theology
Over at Arminian Chronicles, Dan has posted a running series in defense of eternal security. I haven’t said anything up till now because I wanted to see how his Arminian padres would respond. Now I’ll venture three basic comments.
I. The pungent aroma of hypocrisy
The striking thing about the response to Dan’s series is either the total lack of response, or else the congratulatory, kid-glove treatment he’s received at the hands of his fellow Arminians.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d suppose, from the way his Arminian compadres either fall silent or fall over themselves to pat him on the back, that belief or disbelief in eternal security is a matter of indifference to Arminians. That Arminians have no major stake in this debate, so it doesn’t matter which way an Arminian comes down on this particular issue.
However, let’s see how one of Dan’s own friends and Arminian soul-mates approaches the issue when the proponent of eternal security happens to be a Calvinist rather than a fellow Arminian:
When it comes to light that a teaching is clearly contradicted by biblical fact, its proponents will often try desperately to find some way to make the facts fit their doctrine, stretching the limits of believability and sanity. Others try instead to simply cloud the facts or cast doubt upon the clear meaning of the words of scripture, effectively nullifying what the word of God is saying so they won't be forced to deal with the facts therein. Chief among the earthly enemies of Christ were the Pharisees, who held their traditions and the teachings of the elders higher than the word of God. Often they would employ parts of doctrine they had themselves added to God's words to nullify or 'get around' the clear commands of God, such as honoring and caring for one's parents. Christ said to them concerning their doctrinal errors: "Thus have ye made the commandment of God of none effect by your tradition." (Matthew 15:6). Thus, if a doctrine requires that certain commands of God or the clear statements made in scripture be made meaningless or 'explained away' in whole or in part, it is a sure bet that such doctrine is in serious error.
A doctrine that has been circulating in the church for some time now is the belief that it is not possible for one who is redeemed in Christ to fall from God's grace and thereby be lost, the formal name of it being 'Perseverance of the Saints,' and often called, 'Eternal Security of the Believer.' While enjoying some popularity in past and present, this doctrine, just as any other must consistently and at all points stand up to scrutiny from God's word, else be rejected with the multitude of other errors. The doctrine being inherently a rule with 'no exceptions,' the existence of one valid counter-example or fact that runs contrary to it constitutes a thorough refutation.
The unavoidable fact derived from the above passages is that the scripture warns believers against being ensnared by sin and unbelief unto eternal destruction, thereby coming short of the reward of eternal life. This fact squarely contradicts any doctrine that states that such any occurrence is not possible. The challenge I present then is for any believer in unconditional eternal security or guaranteed perseverance of the saints to reconcile their doctrine with the warnings given in these passages. I don't mean change the scriptures to suit your doctrine, I mean change your doctrine to fit the scriptures.
Yet another route some take to make scripture fit their doctrine is asserting that God did indeed address these warnings to believers, but only for the purpose of making them fear Him and live worthy of His calling. He would never actually take their eternal inheritance from them despite the dire warnings given (even John Calvin employed this defense when commenting on Romans 11:22). All inherent problems aside, even if this were the case and God were simply 'putting us on,' so to speak, for the sake of our living righteously, then is it not better to take the Lord at His word? If God's purpose in giving such warnings was to make us live holy unto Him by indicating that if we walk away from Him, He will cast us away, yet you teach a doctrine that states He would never under any circumstance actually do such a thing, then have you not undone the holy fear which God's word was meant to instill in the hearts of His people and again made it of no effect?
Any way you slice it, any theologian that attempts to deny or explain away the real possibility of a believer falling away makes either the warnings against apostasy listed above or their consequences of no effect for the sake of his tradition.
I urge you then, brothers and sisters in Christ, don't be carried away by this errant doctrine any longer, nor lulled to complacency by the idea that you are secure no matter how you live, as it simply cannot be reconciled with the teachings delivered to us in scripture. If it is a clearly established fact from God's word that it is possible for one to fall from God's grace, then it matters not what else men say, what arguments they make against it, what we would rather believe, who disbelieved or taught against it in what time period, what creed or confession denies it, or if a council of very fallible men passed a measure against it: a doctrine that is contrary to the facts indicated in the Bible must be rejected as error because it does not comply with the unbreakable word of the Almighty God.
http://www.indeathorlife.org/soteriology/calvinism/reformedchallenge.php
If we are to truly believe this nonsense that unconditional security is a vital element of the true gospel, and therefore of necessity make the belief in even the possibility of forfeiting salvation a seriously false doctrine, then we are also forced to conclude that in order to promote holiness and preserve itself, God's perfect word instills a concept of false doctrine within the church via idle admonitions with preposterous consequences. Newsflash: God is not the author of confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33), and I stand in awe at the sheer befuddlement of anyone that cannot recognize the obvious discrepancy there.
http://www.indeathorlife.org/soteriology/calvinism/reformedchallenge/afterthoughts.php
i) Shouldn’t we expect Thibodaux to apply the same stinging oratory to Dan’s defense of eternal security? Shouldn’t we expect Thibodaux to post a parallel series of rebuttals to Dan’s defense of eternal security?
But when an Arminian says the same thing as a Calvinist, Thibodaux suddenly comes down with an acute case of laryngitis.
To his unwitting credit, Thibodaux’s duplicity restores my faith in fallen humanity. All that high-minded idealism was beginning to erode my confidence in total depravity–or even the remnants of corruption. But the yawning gap between Thibodaux’s unflinching rhetoric and his muffled practice shores up my flagging faith when I was just about to recant my Calvinism and embrace Wesleyan perfectionism.
It turns out that Arminians are just as clannish and partisan as everyone else. Very refreshing!
ii) I’d add that this isn’t just your garden-variety species of hypocrisy. People can be hypocritical about things which are quite incidental to their core beliefs.
But here, by contrast, hypocrisy cuts to the bone of Arminian identity. The logic of Arminian ethics is that we should treat everyone the same way because God treats everyone the same way. Since God is no respecter of persons, we should follow his lead.
But, upon closer examination, their egalitarian rhetoric is quite Orwellian. Some pigs are more equal than others. If you’re a Reformed proponent of eternal security, then Thibodaux shall smite thee with his rhetorical thunderbolts–but if you’re an Arminian proponent of eternal security, then Thibodaux will take rain check.
iii) Ironically, Manta and I, who’ve been on the receiving end of Thibodaux’s thunderous denunciations, are the true egalitarians. We don’t love our own kind–to the detriment of others. We don’t practice discrimination. We don’t have a rubber yardstick like Thibodaux’s, which stretches to make sure every fellow Calvinist measures up while it contracts as soon as we measure an auslander. To the contrary, if we think a fellow Calvinist is seriously in error, we say so.
iv) Some Arminians might object that I’m unfairly extrapolating from a few cases, like Thibodaux, or Dan’s back-slapping commenters, to Arminians in general. To which I respond–prove me wrong!
If this duplicity is not representative of Arminians in general, then Arminians can prove the point by critiquing Dan’s defense of eternal security in exactly the same way they critique a Reformed defense of eternal security.
II. Theological disarray
Hypocrisy aside, there are two others problems with Arminian eternal security. For one thing, it takes the position that libertarian freewill is indispensable at the frontdoor of salvation, but dispensable at the backdoor of salvation. Getting saved is contingent on the exercise of your libertarian freewill. You must be free to either believe or disbelieve. But when it comes to staying saved, you’re no longer at liberty to either believe or disbelieve.
You’re free to either enter or not. But the backdoor is locked and double-bolted. You’re free to enter, but not to leave. The frontdoor locks behind you.
Yet if libertarian freedom only applies to the frontdoor, and not to the backdoor, then why does it even apply to the frontdoor?
It can’t be that this freedom furnishes an opportunity for more people to be saved. If God can suspend libertarian freewill as soon as you get saved, then he could just as well save absolutely everyone by suspending their libertarian freewill from the get-go. Instead of having the power to either believe or disbelieve, each individual would only have the power to believe.
The usual Arminian objection to this scenario is that true love can’t be “forced” or “coerced.” However, we accept that jaundiced characterization, such a move is not available to the Arminian proponent of eternal security.
Both getting saved and staying saved involve the exercise of faith. Believing the Gospel from day to day. Conversion doesn’t require a different sort of faith than the daily walk of faith. Conversion doesn’t require a different source of faith than the daily walk of faith.
III. Hermeneutical disarray
A further problem is that Arminian eternal security results in hermeneutical disarray. What are the Scriptural prooftexts for libertarian freewill? Well, the warning passages of Scripture constitute a locus classicus. These are not the only passages that Arminians cite to establish the Biblical basis of libertarian freewill, but they represent a major plank in the argument.
Yet the logic by which a typical Arminian infers libertarian freewill from the admonitory verses of Scripture is no different than the logic he applies to his other libertarian prooftexts. This subset of Bible verses is not a class apart from the all the other verses he cites to establish libertarian freewill.
If, therefore, Arminians in good standing can interpret the warning passages consistent with their denial libertarian freewill in these particular cases, then there’s no barrier to interpreting all the other libertarian prooftexts the very same way.
If the warning passages don’t imply that a Christian is free to either persevere in the faith or lose his faith, then there’s no obstacle to saying the exact same thing about other libertarian prooftexts.
I. The pungent aroma of hypocrisy
The striking thing about the response to Dan’s series is either the total lack of response, or else the congratulatory, kid-glove treatment he’s received at the hands of his fellow Arminians.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d suppose, from the way his Arminian compadres either fall silent or fall over themselves to pat him on the back, that belief or disbelief in eternal security is a matter of indifference to Arminians. That Arminians have no major stake in this debate, so it doesn’t matter which way an Arminian comes down on this particular issue.
However, let’s see how one of Dan’s own friends and Arminian soul-mates approaches the issue when the proponent of eternal security happens to be a Calvinist rather than a fellow Arminian:
When it comes to light that a teaching is clearly contradicted by biblical fact, its proponents will often try desperately to find some way to make the facts fit their doctrine, stretching the limits of believability and sanity. Others try instead to simply cloud the facts or cast doubt upon the clear meaning of the words of scripture, effectively nullifying what the word of God is saying so they won't be forced to deal with the facts therein. Chief among the earthly enemies of Christ were the Pharisees, who held their traditions and the teachings of the elders higher than the word of God. Often they would employ parts of doctrine they had themselves added to God's words to nullify or 'get around' the clear commands of God, such as honoring and caring for one's parents. Christ said to them concerning their doctrinal errors: "Thus have ye made the commandment of God of none effect by your tradition." (Matthew 15:6). Thus, if a doctrine requires that certain commands of God or the clear statements made in scripture be made meaningless or 'explained away' in whole or in part, it is a sure bet that such doctrine is in serious error.
A doctrine that has been circulating in the church for some time now is the belief that it is not possible for one who is redeemed in Christ to fall from God's grace and thereby be lost, the formal name of it being 'Perseverance of the Saints,' and often called, 'Eternal Security of the Believer.' While enjoying some popularity in past and present, this doctrine, just as any other must consistently and at all points stand up to scrutiny from God's word, else be rejected with the multitude of other errors. The doctrine being inherently a rule with 'no exceptions,' the existence of one valid counter-example or fact that runs contrary to it constitutes a thorough refutation.
The unavoidable fact derived from the above passages is that the scripture warns believers against being ensnared by sin and unbelief unto eternal destruction, thereby coming short of the reward of eternal life. This fact squarely contradicts any doctrine that states that such any occurrence is not possible. The challenge I present then is for any believer in unconditional eternal security or guaranteed perseverance of the saints to reconcile their doctrine with the warnings given in these passages. I don't mean change the scriptures to suit your doctrine, I mean change your doctrine to fit the scriptures.
Yet another route some take to make scripture fit their doctrine is asserting that God did indeed address these warnings to believers, but only for the purpose of making them fear Him and live worthy of His calling. He would never actually take their eternal inheritance from them despite the dire warnings given (even John Calvin employed this defense when commenting on Romans 11:22). All inherent problems aside, even if this were the case and God were simply 'putting us on,' so to speak, for the sake of our living righteously, then is it not better to take the Lord at His word? If God's purpose in giving such warnings was to make us live holy unto Him by indicating that if we walk away from Him, He will cast us away, yet you teach a doctrine that states He would never under any circumstance actually do such a thing, then have you not undone the holy fear which God's word was meant to instill in the hearts of His people and again made it of no effect?
Any way you slice it, any theologian that attempts to deny or explain away the real possibility of a believer falling away makes either the warnings against apostasy listed above or their consequences of no effect for the sake of his tradition.
I urge you then, brothers and sisters in Christ, don't be carried away by this errant doctrine any longer, nor lulled to complacency by the idea that you are secure no matter how you live, as it simply cannot be reconciled with the teachings delivered to us in scripture. If it is a clearly established fact from God's word that it is possible for one to fall from God's grace, then it matters not what else men say, what arguments they make against it, what we would rather believe, who disbelieved or taught against it in what time period, what creed or confession denies it, or if a council of very fallible men passed a measure against it: a doctrine that is contrary to the facts indicated in the Bible must be rejected as error because it does not comply with the unbreakable word of the Almighty God.
http://www.indeathorlife.org/soteriology/calvinism/reformedchallenge.php
If we are to truly believe this nonsense that unconditional security is a vital element of the true gospel, and therefore of necessity make the belief in even the possibility of forfeiting salvation a seriously false doctrine, then we are also forced to conclude that in order to promote holiness and preserve itself, God's perfect word instills a concept of false doctrine within the church via idle admonitions with preposterous consequences. Newsflash: God is not the author of confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33), and I stand in awe at the sheer befuddlement of anyone that cannot recognize the obvious discrepancy there.
http://www.indeathorlife.org/soteriology/calvinism/reformedchallenge/afterthoughts.php
i) Shouldn’t we expect Thibodaux to apply the same stinging oratory to Dan’s defense of eternal security? Shouldn’t we expect Thibodaux to post a parallel series of rebuttals to Dan’s defense of eternal security?
But when an Arminian says the same thing as a Calvinist, Thibodaux suddenly comes down with an acute case of laryngitis.
To his unwitting credit, Thibodaux’s duplicity restores my faith in fallen humanity. All that high-minded idealism was beginning to erode my confidence in total depravity–or even the remnants of corruption. But the yawning gap between Thibodaux’s unflinching rhetoric and his muffled practice shores up my flagging faith when I was just about to recant my Calvinism and embrace Wesleyan perfectionism.
It turns out that Arminians are just as clannish and partisan as everyone else. Very refreshing!
ii) I’d add that this isn’t just your garden-variety species of hypocrisy. People can be hypocritical about things which are quite incidental to their core beliefs.
But here, by contrast, hypocrisy cuts to the bone of Arminian identity. The logic of Arminian ethics is that we should treat everyone the same way because God treats everyone the same way. Since God is no respecter of persons, we should follow his lead.
But, upon closer examination, their egalitarian rhetoric is quite Orwellian. Some pigs are more equal than others. If you’re a Reformed proponent of eternal security, then Thibodaux shall smite thee with his rhetorical thunderbolts–but if you’re an Arminian proponent of eternal security, then Thibodaux will take rain check.
iii) Ironically, Manta and I, who’ve been on the receiving end of Thibodaux’s thunderous denunciations, are the true egalitarians. We don’t love our own kind–to the detriment of others. We don’t practice discrimination. We don’t have a rubber yardstick like Thibodaux’s, which stretches to make sure every fellow Calvinist measures up while it contracts as soon as we measure an auslander. To the contrary, if we think a fellow Calvinist is seriously in error, we say so.
iv) Some Arminians might object that I’m unfairly extrapolating from a few cases, like Thibodaux, or Dan’s back-slapping commenters, to Arminians in general. To which I respond–prove me wrong!
If this duplicity is not representative of Arminians in general, then Arminians can prove the point by critiquing Dan’s defense of eternal security in exactly the same way they critique a Reformed defense of eternal security.
II. Theological disarray
Hypocrisy aside, there are two others problems with Arminian eternal security. For one thing, it takes the position that libertarian freewill is indispensable at the frontdoor of salvation, but dispensable at the backdoor of salvation. Getting saved is contingent on the exercise of your libertarian freewill. You must be free to either believe or disbelieve. But when it comes to staying saved, you’re no longer at liberty to either believe or disbelieve.
You’re free to either enter or not. But the backdoor is locked and double-bolted. You’re free to enter, but not to leave. The frontdoor locks behind you.
Yet if libertarian freedom only applies to the frontdoor, and not to the backdoor, then why does it even apply to the frontdoor?
It can’t be that this freedom furnishes an opportunity for more people to be saved. If God can suspend libertarian freewill as soon as you get saved, then he could just as well save absolutely everyone by suspending their libertarian freewill from the get-go. Instead of having the power to either believe or disbelieve, each individual would only have the power to believe.
The usual Arminian objection to this scenario is that true love can’t be “forced” or “coerced.” However, we accept that jaundiced characterization, such a move is not available to the Arminian proponent of eternal security.
Both getting saved and staying saved involve the exercise of faith. Believing the Gospel from day to day. Conversion doesn’t require a different sort of faith than the daily walk of faith. Conversion doesn’t require a different source of faith than the daily walk of faith.
III. Hermeneutical disarray
A further problem is that Arminian eternal security results in hermeneutical disarray. What are the Scriptural prooftexts for libertarian freewill? Well, the warning passages of Scripture constitute a locus classicus. These are not the only passages that Arminians cite to establish the Biblical basis of libertarian freewill, but they represent a major plank in the argument.
Yet the logic by which a typical Arminian infers libertarian freewill from the admonitory verses of Scripture is no different than the logic he applies to his other libertarian prooftexts. This subset of Bible verses is not a class apart from the all the other verses he cites to establish libertarian freewill.
If, therefore, Arminians in good standing can interpret the warning passages consistent with their denial libertarian freewill in these particular cases, then there’s no barrier to interpreting all the other libertarian prooftexts the very same way.
If the warning passages don’t imply that a Christian is free to either persevere in the faith or lose his faith, then there’s no obstacle to saying the exact same thing about other libertarian prooftexts.
Labels:
Apostasy,
Arminianism,
Calvinism,
Hays,
hermeneutics,
Manata,
Perseverance
The absurdity of life without God
A pair of stories William Lane Craig recounts in his book, Reasonable Faith:
The horror of a world devoid of value was brought home to me with new intensity several years ago as I viewed a BBC television documentary called "The Gathering." It concerned the reunion of certain survivors of the Holocaust in Jerusalem where they shared experiences and rediscovered lost friendships. Now I had heard stories of the Holocaust before and even visited camps like Dachau and Buchenwald. And I thought I was beyond being shocked by further tales of horror. But I found that I was not. One woman prisoner, for example, a nurse, told how she was made the gynecologist at Auswitzch. She observed that certain pregnant women were grouped together by the soldiers under the direction of Dr. Mengele, and housed in the same barracks. Some time passed and she noticed that she no longer saw any of these women. She made inquirees: "Where are the pregnant women who were housed in that barracks?" she asked. "Oh, haven't you heard," came the reply, "Dr. Mengele used them for vivisection."
Another woman told how Mengele had had her breast bound up so she could no longer suckle her baby. The doctor wanted to learn how long an infant could survive without nourishment. And desperately this poor woman tried to keep her baby alive by giving it bits of bread soaked in coffee. But to no avail. Each day the baby lost weight - a fact which was eagerly monitored by Dr. Mengele. Finally a nurse then came secretly to this woman, and said to her, "I've arranged for a way for you to get out of here. But you cannot take your baby with you. I've brought a morphine injection which you can give to your child to take its life." And when this woman protested the nurse said to her, "Look, your baby is going to die anyway. At least save yourself." And so this poor woman took the life of her own child. Mengele was furious when he learned he had lost his experimental specimen, and he searched among the corpses of the discarded babies until he could find the body to have one last weighing.
Dr. Horrible
In a recent interview, a late-term abortion doctor, Dr. Warren Hern, compares the pro-life movement to terrorists and the Taliban. Hern is convinced the only difference between the Taliban and "anti-abortion fanatics" is "8,000 miles." He describes Scott Roeder's murder of George Tiller as a "political assassination."
A few thoughts:
1. First of all, contrary to what Hern believes, it really was just one guy, Roeder, who assassinated Tiller. So why does Hern blanket the entire pro-life movement as a bunch of "anti-abortion fanatics" and the like?
2. Also, much if not most of the pro-life movement has already denounced Roeder's act as murder. For example, Christians have done so. Yes, the very Christians whom Hern claims to be at the "forefront" of the "anti-abortion fanatics."
3. The Taliban were a repressive, fundamentalist Muslim regime that killed scores of innocents. How are pro-lifers comparable to the Taliban in Hern's view? How is calling for abortionists to stop killing fetuses comparable to what the Taliban stands for and has done? Rather, I'd think that Hern and Tiller are more comparable to the Taliban than pro-lifers in that Hern, Tiller, and the Taliban have each killed thousands of innocents.
4. Hern says Tiller was unarmed when he was assassinated, which is true. But Hern appears quite angered that Tiller was unarmed when he was killed -- angered that an innocent, unarmed man was murdered. Fine, he can feel however he likes. But, judging Hern by his own standard, what about the thousands of babies who were similarly unarmed when Tiller and Hern aborted them?
5. Hern treats the pro-life movement as if they were a minority group of fanatics. Indeed, one wonders how many men and women are pro-life vs. pro-choice. What makes Hern think pro-lifers are a minority group in our society? (Not, of course, that we judge the rightness or wrongness of an action by the number of people in favor or against it.)
What's more, who's the "fanatic" here? Many if not most people in our society, including medical professionals, would consider late-term abortion a more radical position than "typical" abortion. In any case, there are abortionists who support abortion up to a certain point, and either don't support it beyond a certain point or are unsure whether to support it. However, Hern not only supports abortion but he is an outspoken advocate for late-term abortion. Further, he vehemently denounces those who disagree with him. Again, who's the "fanatic" here?
6. Hern expresses sadness and grief at Tiller's demise. Yet he is a late-term abortionist. How horribly twisted! How misguided and defective one's moral compass must be not only to feel sadness and grief over another murderer's demise, but also to feel no sadness or grief over murdering innocent babies. Especially by medical procedures such as the following (which I'll simplify here; but if anyone is interested in further information, they can easily Google for it since it's publicly available):
(Of course, in all likelihood it probably comes down to the fact that Hern doesn't believe a fetus to be a human being or person. But since, among other things, he's making an unsubstantive, emotionally-laden tirade against pro-lifers, I'm addressing him on this level.)
7. Hern calls Tiller's murder a "political" assassination. But, by the same token, Hern is making and/or continuing to make the issue a political issue when, for example, he calls for the President to go on national television and demand that abortion doctors and women who want abortions be protected by the law and be provided with security. Or when he says that, since night vigils outside abortion clinics constitute "intimidation and harassment," the government ought to (forcibly?) intervene and end such "intimidation and harassment."
However, if that's what Hern wants, then why should, say, the tax dollars of pro-life citizens go to support him and his cause? We have a say in our communities, states, and nation, too. If Hern and other abortionists want to make it political, then we have every right to dispute abortion politically as well. We have a right, for instance, to call for the state or federal government to make abortion clinics illegal, to petition medical boards to revoke abortion doctors' licenses, to insist that abortionists like Hern turn themselves into the authorities for murder, to request local police to protect the freedom of pro-life speeches and protests, and so on.
Why should (late-term) abortionists like Hern put pro-lifers on the defensive?
A few thoughts:
1. First of all, contrary to what Hern believes, it really was just one guy, Roeder, who assassinated Tiller. So why does Hern blanket the entire pro-life movement as a bunch of "anti-abortion fanatics" and the like?
2. Also, much if not most of the pro-life movement has already denounced Roeder's act as murder. For example, Christians have done so. Yes, the very Christians whom Hern claims to be at the "forefront" of the "anti-abortion fanatics."
3. The Taliban were a repressive, fundamentalist Muslim regime that killed scores of innocents. How are pro-lifers comparable to the Taliban in Hern's view? How is calling for abortionists to stop killing fetuses comparable to what the Taliban stands for and has done? Rather, I'd think that Hern and Tiller are more comparable to the Taliban than pro-lifers in that Hern, Tiller, and the Taliban have each killed thousands of innocents.
4. Hern says Tiller was unarmed when he was assassinated, which is true. But Hern appears quite angered that Tiller was unarmed when he was killed -- angered that an innocent, unarmed man was murdered. Fine, he can feel however he likes. But, judging Hern by his own standard, what about the thousands of babies who were similarly unarmed when Tiller and Hern aborted them?
5. Hern treats the pro-life movement as if they were a minority group of fanatics. Indeed, one wonders how many men and women are pro-life vs. pro-choice. What makes Hern think pro-lifers are a minority group in our society? (Not, of course, that we judge the rightness or wrongness of an action by the number of people in favor or against it.)
What's more, who's the "fanatic" here? Many if not most people in our society, including medical professionals, would consider late-term abortion a more radical position than "typical" abortion. In any case, there are abortionists who support abortion up to a certain point, and either don't support it beyond a certain point or are unsure whether to support it. However, Hern not only supports abortion but he is an outspoken advocate for late-term abortion. Further, he vehemently denounces those who disagree with him. Again, who's the "fanatic" here?
6. Hern expresses sadness and grief at Tiller's demise. Yet he is a late-term abortionist. How horribly twisted! How misguided and defective one's moral compass must be not only to feel sadness and grief over another murderer's demise, but also to feel no sadness or grief over murdering innocent babies. Especially by medical procedures such as the following (which I'll simplify here; but if anyone is interested in further information, they can easily Google for it since it's publicly available):
- Dilation and Evacuation. A doctor uses forceps inserted through the pregnant woman's vagina and into her uterus to break apart the fetus' body and crush its head. The dead fetus is pulled out of the woman's uterus. Anything remaining such as the placenta and other parts of the fetus is suctioned out.
- Dilation and Extraction. After rotating the fetus until his/her feet are facing downwards (rather than his/her head), a doctor uses forceps inserted through the pregnant woman's vagina and into her uterus to pull the fetus' body out from the uterus, leaving only the fetus' head inside. A special type of scissors cut into the base of the fetus' skull in order to make an incision there, then a suction tube is inserted through the incision, and the fetus' brain is basically sucked out.
(Of course, in all likelihood it probably comes down to the fact that Hern doesn't believe a fetus to be a human being or person. But since, among other things, he's making an unsubstantive, emotionally-laden tirade against pro-lifers, I'm addressing him on this level.)
7. Hern calls Tiller's murder a "political" assassination. But, by the same token, Hern is making and/or continuing to make the issue a political issue when, for example, he calls for the President to go on national television and demand that abortion doctors and women who want abortions be protected by the law and be provided with security. Or when he says that, since night vigils outside abortion clinics constitute "intimidation and harassment," the government ought to (forcibly?) intervene and end such "intimidation and harassment."
However, if that's what Hern wants, then why should, say, the tax dollars of pro-life citizens go to support him and his cause? We have a say in our communities, states, and nation, too. If Hern and other abortionists want to make it political, then we have every right to dispute abortion politically as well. We have a right, for instance, to call for the state or federal government to make abortion clinics illegal, to petition medical boards to revoke abortion doctors' licenses, to insist that abortionists like Hern turn themselves into the authorities for murder, to request local police to protect the freedom of pro-life speeches and protests, and so on.
Why should (late-term) abortionists like Hern put pro-lifers on the defensive?
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