Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Bible stuff – correct and inspired interpretations and translations

I like clever. I like to think of myself as a clever person.

Maybe one day I’ll wake up and realize I have been completely stupid. (I’m regularly reminded that I have been partially stupid many times, but being completely stupid all the time would be a revelation.)

Anyhow, part of my being a clever-liking person is my interest in getting a better understanding of the Bible, which means getting to grips with interpretations and translations; in other words, words.

It should be no surprise that I enjoy word games such as Scrabble and Crossword puzzles. The Bible is made up of words, and my clever-liking self enjoys approaching it as if it were the word game to beat all word games. That's not an entirely stupid occupation, because people have said some stupid things in the name of the Bible, usually by saying it says something that is the opposite of what it actually says. So, we need the ammunition to shoot down such stupidities and we get it from wrestling with the many word-puzzles that it confronts us with.

Then, I get reminded that it’s not simply some word game of the sort that you use to while away those idle hours on a long-haul flight. Proper interpretation and translation is not about solving a word-puzzle, but about entering into the story by faith, and living it as a reality.

Today, I was reminded of that by an anonymous correspondent who, when pondering the difficult decision to stay in Egypt where life is becoming increasingly dangerous for Christians, or to immigrate to another safer country, thought of the story of Jesus walking on the water (Matthew 14:22-32 , Mark 6:45-52 , John 6:15-21) and wrote this …

We live in Egypt today with hearts full of peace and joy, realizing that even as we are on that boat, in the middle of the dark night in the middle of the high waves, Jesus will … show up walking on the waves.

(Reported at the end of the article Help the persecuted stay? Or help them move?)

That’s what I call a proper, inspired interpretation of scripture.

Friday, October 25, 2013

On Heaven's Walls

The Bricklayer
scored his brow.
Despite his straining art
he now
had not one course
to plumb.
The sweeping arches in his mind
would not form,
for each brick placed
would fall
into the endless depths
that swallowed all.

His many bricks
and keening skill
could not bridge
gravity’s will.
No strata
could be found
from which to spring.
No ground
on which to lay.
No mix
of cement and stone
would fix.

Despairing, he watched
the downward arc
of his industry.
Each creative spark
illuminating nothing
as it passed
through eons of empty night
and at last,
shunned by the indifferent void
it died,
crushed in a weightless world
by weightless pride.

Your back, bowing
beneath the weight
of knowing
would but elate
if your feet would yield.
Yet you see what falls
because you stand
on heaven’s walls.
Consider,
as you mete the edge,
the Architect of
your teetering ledge.


An Explanation

What I have tried to describe here is one of life's great paradoxes - the paradox of knowing. Of all the creatures in the universe we are (as far as we currently know) the only ones that can survey their own finitude. We have knowledge of what we are, but that knowledge tells us that we are almost nothing.

The gravity metaphor explores this. If we were in free-fall, we would perceive a weightless world and all our efforts to build would simply disintegrate as it fell around us. Yet we perceive the pressure of weight, like the action and reaction of a weight above our heads and our feet on solid ground. Could we feel this pressure because we live in a peculiar juncture between time and eternity? The picture I have attempted to invoke is of someone peering over the edge, into the void below - his perspective possible not because he is falling, but because he is standing. Is it because his vantage point is from the walls of heaven? And, what would he see if looked up and around?

Sunday, October 20, 2013

The Mormon Doctrine of Eternal Progression



Preamble


I first wrote this piece in 2006 and got it posted on a couple of websites, including Tekton. I have reposted it here to reinvigorate it with a couple of very minor edits. Some of the links have changed, and I have done my best to update them.

The purpose of this post is to quote primary authorities within Mormonism, so that the reader can see what was actually written rather than getting it second-hand, and to challenge the claim that it is supported by the Bible.

Mormon sources

First, God himself, who sits enthroned in yonder heavens, is a man like unto one of yourselves, that is the great secret. . . . I am going to tell you how God came to be God. We have imagined that God was God from all eternity. . . God himself; the Father of us all dwelt on an earth the same as Jesus Christ himself did, . . . You have got to learn how to be Gods yourselves; to be kings and priests to God, the same as all Gods have done; by going from a small degree to another, from grace to grace, from exaltation to exaltation, ...

Joseph Smith, Times and Seasons, Vol. 5, pp. 613-614

Mormonism claims that all nature, both on earth and in heaven, operates on a plan of advancement; that the very Eternal Father is a progressive being; that his perfection, while so complete as to be incomprehensible by man, possesses this essential quality of true perfection – the capacity of eternal increase. That therefore, in the far future, beyond the horizon of eternities perchance, man may attain the status of a God. Yet this does not mean that he shall be the equal of the Deity we worship, nor shall he ever overtake those intelligences that are already beyond him in advancement; for to assert such would be to argue that there is no progression beyond a certain stage of attainment, and that advancement is characteristic of low organization and inferior purpose alone. We believe that there is more than the sounding of brass or the tinkling of wordy cymbals in the fervent admonition of Christ to his followers – ‘Be ye perfect even as your heavenly Father which is in Heaven is perfect’
James Talmadge, Articles of Faith

The principle of eternal progression cannot be precisely defined or comprehended, yet it is fundamental to the LDS worldview.

Lisa Ramsey Adams and Elder Bruce R McConkie


This gradually unfolding course of advancement and experience -- a course that began in a past eternity and will continue in ages future -- is frequently referred to as a course of eternal progression.

Elder Bruce R. McConkie.

Lorenzo Snow, who was President of the Mormon Church from 1898 to 1901, wrote the following in a poem entitled "Man's Destiny":

Still, tis no phantom that we trace
Man's ultimatum in life's race;
This royal path has long been trod
By righteous men, each now a God:

As Abra'm Isaac, Jacob, too,
First babes, then men--to gods they grew.
As man now is, our God once was;
As now God is, so man may be, --
Which doth unfold Man's destiny. . . ."

The Gospel Through The Ages, by Milton R. Hunter, 1958, p. 113

Where Does This Doctrine Come From?

The logic pursued by the Mormons I have spoken to seems to be based on the idea that change and progression are natural principles, therefore they apply to God as they do to the rest of creation. The idea that God’s invisible qualities are visible in creation is supported in Romans 1:20 and Mormons interpret the father-son relationship between the Heavenly Father and Jesus as pointing to other father-son relationships before and after this world. Mormonism asserts that because we are the children of God, it is our destiny to progress in this life and the next in order to attain the perfection that God himself presently enjoys.

As regards the progress of the Saints and their attaining perfection, there are two main NT references;

1. Matthew 5:48 (as quoted by Talmadge) Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. In context, it is clear that Jesus is delivering a damning criticism of the Pharisees because they conveniently limited God’s directive; the Pharisees were teaching “love your neighbour but hate your enemy”. The original command in Leviticus 19:18 does not make this distinction; “You shall love your fellow man as yourself. I am the LORD” (from Prof Robert Alter’s Translation of the Five Books of Moses). Jesus is not preaching ontological perfection (as Talmadge asserts), but that our love should be as perfect as God’s, which extends even to his enemies.

2. Hebrews 10:14 states that the one sacrifice of Christ has made perfect forever those who are being made holy. In context, the writer is contrasting the old system, which can never, by the same sacrifices repeated endlessly year after year, make perfect those who draw near to worship (see Hebrews 10:1). The use of the past tense is crucial in this verse. It says the saints have been already made perfect, but nowhere in the NT do we find sinless saints, not even Saint Paul and Saint John (by their own confession). The perfection mentioned in Hebrews, therefore, cannot be an ontological perfection. The verse, however, makes sense when we understand it to mean being made perfectly acceptable to God, or being made ‘whole’ in our union with Christ. The saints are perfectly acceptable to God not by their own merit, but by the merits of Christ in whom they enter the Holy of Holies. The perfection of the saints is in the past tense because it was achieved in the past, at the cross of Christ.

There is no support in the Canonical Bible for the notion that human beings can become, in their very nature, as God is now.


Theological Implications – the Orthodox View

The orthodox view is that God created the cosmos, and it exists within him.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made, John 1:3.
For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. Colossians 1:16
This is ex nihilo creation, which Mormonism explicitly rejects.

The orthodox view states that there can only be one God, because there can only be one ultimate origin of everything. God is the unchanging datum, from whom a changing universe is created. He is answerable to no-one, and owes his being to no-one. Only such a God could say, as Jehovah said to Moses, I will be what I will be (Exodus 3:14). Only such a God could claim to be the alpha and omega (Revelation 1:8 and 22:13) within which all time and space is bracketed. Being subject to no higher authority, God is truly a law unto himself, but he will not act in a way that denies his own nature.


Theological Implications – the Mormon View

In polar contrast, the Mormon view is that God emerged from the cosmos, and lives as an inhabitant of it, subject to principles and laws that were not of his own making. Further, there is not one God, but an infinite number, all of whom are progressing in experience, knowledge and intelligence, though we need only concern ourselves with the God who rules the universe that we inhabit (which is henotheism).

We accept the fact that God is the Supreme Intelligent Being in the universe. He has the greatest knowledge, the most perfect will, and the most infinite power of any person within the realm of our understanding. . . . 
Yet, if we accept the great law of eternal progression, we must accept the fact that there was a time when Deity was much less powerful than He is today. Then how did He become glorified and exalted and attain His present status of Godhood? In the first place, aeons ago, God undoubtedly took advantage of every opportunity to learn the laws of truth and as He became acquainted with each new verity He righteously obeyed it. From day to day He exerted His will vigorously, and as a result became thoroughly acquainted with the forces lying about Him. As he gained more knowledge through persistent effort and continuous industry, as well as through absolute obedience, His understanding of the universal laws continued to become more complete. Thus He grew in experience and continued to grow until He attained the status of Godhood. In other words, He became God by absolute obedience to all the eternal laws of the Gospel--by conforming His actions to all truth, and thereby became the author of eternal truth. Therefore, the road that the Eternal Father followed to Godhood was one of living at all times a dynamic, industrious, and completely righteous life. There is no other way to exaltation. 
Milton R Hunter.

God earned the right to become a god by his own self-effort. The path to exaltation is a path of learning, experience, effort and industry (compare Gnosticism, for example). Mormon teaching differs widely on the role of the cross of the Saviour in this journey of the saints, and it is noticeably absent from Hunter’s description of the path to exaltation.

If God (and Jesus) was a man like us, then did he/ they have need of a saviour? I canvassed my Mormon friends with this question, and the answers I got were;

1. There has been no revelation from [the] prophets on any specifics relating to these matters (from a Mormon Bishop)

2. Short answer, Yes , as far as I follow it, they [sic] would have had a saviour (from an active member of a Mormon church).

3. Our Heavenly Father was born and did live in mortality on another earth. Did He have need of a Saviour? I don't know the answer to that question. I do know that He is my God, and that He knows and understands me. He has reached perfection and desires the same for His children (from a Mormon Bishop).

The full version of answer 3 differentiates between God the Father, who was born on an earth, and Jesus, who was born in a spirit realm before coming to this earth.


What Does It Mean To Us?

Ralph Bowles (former Rector of St Stephen’s, Brisbane) once told me that the Trinity is the Gospel. I think there is much merit in this view and it aligns closely with the view of the Apostle John, in particular. John opens his Gospel with the audacious claim that the creator of the cosmos became flesh. We can follow John’s train of thought in his Gospels, Letters and Revelation, through Jesus’ submission to death on a cross, to the resurrection, the present age of the Church and the Final Judgement. I think that paramount in John’s mind was the question of why the omnipotent God, who wraps up skies and silences heaven, should purposefully set things up so that he, himself, would have to die on the cross. The conclusion John reaches, is that God is love. It is such a perfect love that it would have to give of itself to the point where there was nothing more to give. If God had sent his 2IC, his lieutenant, or even a close relative, he would not be expressing this love, he would be simply getting his credit card out; and that does not mean much to a God who could create a thousand ‘sons’ in an instant (“What? Jesus is dead! Never mind, I’ll just make another one”).

The doctrine of eternal progression places God within the constraints of an impersonal universe, such that he is not free to submit exclusively to his own love for us, nor to his own justice (“I’d like to help, but my hands are tied”). It also flatters with the promise of divinity through a process of experience and knowledge (compare the serpent’s appeal to Eve in Genesis 3:1-5). The emphasis on earning our exaltation relegates the cross to a moral example; we salute the crucified Christ as we pass, and we are grateful to leave our sins there, but the road ahead is one of advancement by a process of obeying the law. Finally, God is not God and eternity is not eternity.


Post Script: Ex Nihilo and Genesis 1:1

There is just enough play in the Hebrew of Genesis 1:1 to raise some interesting possibilities. Prof. Robert Alter translates it as When God began to create the heavens and the earth… Also, the name used for God, Elohim, has a plural form and it is properly used to describe ‘gods’ in some places in the Pentateuch as well as a singular ‘God’ in others.

Was God up to something before the creation? The Bible does not tell us explicitly, so any answer must be speculative. If we understand the creation of the cosmos to include the creation of time itself, then the question of what happened before the beginning of time becomes meaningless.

Does the plural name of God suggest a Council of gods? Some Mormon apologists argue that the idea of such a council is consistent with the ancient religion of Egypt (it is certainly true of Babylonian religion – see the Flood account in the Gilgamesh Epic), and it is reflected in some ancient Jewish teachings. These apologists may be right, but we must question whom it is that we seek guidance from. Are we to take instruction from some ancient pagan religions (even the paganism practised in ancient Israel) in preference over the Bible?

It must also be noted that there is not one sane translation that mentions more than one God in Genesis 1:1. The justification for these ‘one God’ translations is not found solely in this one verse, but in context with the remaining corpus of the canonical Bible, which is polemically monotheistic. In other words, if you want to believe that more than one god was involved in the creation, you could stretch the opening words of Genesis just far enough to fit your theory, but you would have to ignore everything that follows it in the Canonical Bible.

I am he: before me there was no God formed neither shall there be after me. I, even I, am the Lord; and beside me there is no saviour. Isaiah 43:10-11

Thus saith the LORD the King of Israel, and his redeemer the LORD of hosts; I am the first, and I am the last; and beside me there is no God…Is there a God beside me? yea, there is no God; I know not any. Isaiah 44:6 & 8

Useful Links

This one was written by senior Mormons; and this one was written by Sandra Tanner, one of the most prominent anti-Mormon apologists. Both sources are quoted above.

Martin Jacobs 2006

Saturday, August 24, 2013

When Atheists and Skeptics are Right

Not being an atheist or skeptic I’m often disheartened by critical messaging on social media and TV. Sometimes it is intentionally confrontational, sometimes it’s nothing more than a light-hearted poke, and often it is simply crass or just wrong. Sometimes it is articulated well, sometimes it is puerile and, usually, it is nothing more than just a tee shirt slogan. Always, I feel it. Perhaps I should just grow a thicker skin.

However ugly the full-grown expression might be, it often grows from a seed of truth. This post is all about one of those seeds. I want to say to you skeptics and atheists that, on this issue at least, you are right.

The criticism or ridicule that I have in mind may be broadly categorized as a reaction against the kinds of claims made by believers that they are somehow special, or better, or more privileged than the “others”. A previous generation might have used the phrase “holier than thou”. At its heart, it’s a visceral reaction against what I call Religious Exceptionalism.

Put simply, Religious Exceptionalism states that because I subscribe to such-and-such a religion, or go to so-and-so church/temple/mosque/synagogue, I am entitled to all manner of privileges in this world and the next. The key term here is “because”. It’s using God to escape the bell-curve of probability; to elevate myself above my neighbors; to consider myself separate from them.

These privileges might be identified within a religious belief, but they can also be identified in a secular sphere. They can range from special knowledge or revelations, to the right to occupy land or to persecute other people-groups. Like skin colour, or sexuality, they are a self-serving set of criteria that I can use to consider myself better than, or more deserving than. They make me one of the good guys, and because of that, the universe owes me special consideration. They make me the exception.

Leading popular critics, such as Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and Lawrence Kraus, have capitalized on this criticism. In the recent debate that I attended, the repugnance exuded by Kraus and his supporters against Religious Exceptionalism was almost palpable, even if he didn’t express it in those terms. What drove him was the sense that we believers considered ourselves better than him and his science because of our beliefs. (Incidentally, I think his repugnance is only partially justified, and a balanced reflection indicates that he and his colleagues are supplanting one kind of Religious Exceptionalism with another – a form of anti-Religious Exceptionalism if you like – even though he aspires to anti-Religious anti-Exceptionalism.)

One cartoon by Alan Krumin showed a Rabbi, an Imam and a Bishop approaching the Pearly Gates guarded by Thor, the Viking god. The caption was something like “What happens when you support the wrong team.” In the face of this, it would be hopeless for me to try to explain the differences between Judaism, Islam and Christianity, and why I am one and not another, and perhaps that’s the cartoonist’s point. But I also see a sense of repugnancy at the perceived exclusion of the “other” religions from heaven. Am I entitled to enter those Pearly Gates and, if I am, what makes me so? What gives me the warrant to believe that I am the exception?

In my reading of the Bible, I see both bad news and good news for Religious Exceptionalism.

The bad news is that there is nothing in myself that makes me qualify for heaven or, indeed any other worldly or other-worldly privilege. I am not the exception, not even if I go to the “right” church and say and do the right things. For instance, when God directs Israel to occupy the land, he says
It is not because of your righteousness or your integrity that you are going in to take possession of their land … for you are a stiff-necked people Deuteronomy 9:5-7
In other words, Israel could not justify its privilege on the basis of its own rightness or religious preferences.

This scenario, in my reading of it, sets the pattern for all privilege and exceptionalism. Indeed it forms the bedrock of New Testament theology. Paul frames it in terms of faith and works
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works Ephesians 2:8-10 
The Reformers distilled it further to Sola Fide– Justification by faith alone, as opposed to justification by works.

The point of Paul and the Reformers is that our claims to privilege are not based on “works”. I understand the term to mean both the things we do and the things done to us, particularly as they relate to religious observation.

The seminal NT example of a religious “work” that is done to you and by you (if you are a Jewish man) is circumcision. How many times does the NT reinforce the message that we cannot justify our privileges by being circumcised or by circumcising our sons, or even by the state of being circumcised? Paul puts it bluntly in 1 Corinthians 7:19 “Circumcision is nothing and uncircumcision is nothing”. We cannot use it to justify our claim to privilege.

Likewise, Christian theology kicks against all kinds of Religious Exceptionalism. We Christians are good at forgetting this. Though we aver from Exceptionalism by circumcision, we often allow it to creep back in, in different clothes.

I was recently criticized for saying a prayer in church in which I described us as “dumb” in the context of God’s peerless wisdom. Do we think that we are entitled to being smart because we go to church? Would it be wrong to characterize our church as being full of idiots, of which I am the lead idiot? Where is the spirit that says that God often glorifies Himself through the foolish things of this world? Do we not realize that we, ourselves, could actually be those foolish things? Have we resorted to justifying ourselves based on our intellects and education? We need a new generation of Reformers to remind us that we are not the exceptions.

The good news is that God has made all the privileges of Christ available to us, through faith (for example, see Ephesians 1:3). There is access to heaven in this life and the next. However, these are not privileges that I am entitled to – I have no right to them. It is precisely because they are a gift that I can claim no exclusiveness to them – I do not own the franchise; not even partially.

In this context, I rightly see myself as the everyman that I am. I have privileges, but I am not entitled to them. I do not possess them by right. When God wishes to take them from me – the privilege of being alive, for instance – I have no reason to complain. There’s nothing in me that makes me the exception, and what privileges I have, I have by the grace of God. Surely that’s good news for us all because my neighbors, who are equally as unqualified as I, live under His grace too.

I feel sure that God wants me to enjoy and exploit whatever privileges he extends to me, including my life, my intellect and my education. By following in kind, He wants me to desire the “others” to enjoy and exploit their privileges too. In this economy of freely giving and receiving – the economy of Grace - there is no place for Religious Exceptionalism. In this respect, the atheists and skeptics are right, even if they are right for all the wrong reasons.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Atheism denies a reasonable basis for morality

The killing of Canaanite children, commanded by God in such passages as Deuteronomy 20:10-18, and other such acts, invokes moral outrage among atheists. My response is that Atheism denies a reasonable basis, or warrant, for morality; therefore, there is no reason to believe the atheists’ outrage. The moral outrage expressed by atheists as a recruiting drum for Atheism is one of the great propaganda triumphs of our time.

Prelude


Last Wednesday, I attended the debate between Lawrence Krauss  and William Lane Craig. Although the subject was “Has Science Buried God?”, Krauss spent much of his time preaching the moral superiority of his position because, he believed, the killing of Canaanite children was a moral evil. It followed, then, that the Judaeo-Christian God was morally evil and ought to be killed and buried. Coincidentally, I had had a very similar conversation on-line the week previously with a couple of atheists.

My argument is that Atheism denies a reasonable basis, or warrant, for morality. Before we get to what the argument does say, we’ll have to deal with what it does not say.

What the argument does not say – 1 Atheists are immoral


The first misunderstanding to get past is that atheists are immoral. It may be because that is how most people on both sides hear the argument, but it’s wrong.

This is not about whether atheists have the right moral equipment, a “moral compass” if you like, nor if they are any better or worse at using it. In reality, atheists often make good moral decisions, but it is irrelevant to the argument. Even if it were true that every Theist consistently made better moral decisions than every Atheist, it would still be irrelevant. What the argument looks for is a reasonable warrant for these moral decisions.

What the argument does not say – 2 Atheism has no warrant for morality


The next misunderstanding is that atheism has no warrant for morality. In fact, it does, but it’s instinctive or acquired, and it still lacks a reasonable warrant.

The key word here is “reasonable”, meaning something that has a reason for its existence and something that can be used to reason with another person. It’s no surprise that Atheists use the killing of Canaanite children as an emotive argument that appeals to how we feel about it, rather than using it as a rational argument based on reason.

What the argument does not say – 3 Instinctive or acquired morality is bad


The next misunderstanding is that instinct or acquired knowledge provides no warrant for morality. It’s not what the argument proposes. It’s wrong because our instincts and acquired knowledge can, actually, provide a very good warrant for our moral decisions. To argue that they cannot will be to argue that none of our senses can convey to us a representation of the reality that we live in. Furthermore, it does not matter where our acquired knowledge comes from. What matters is that we have a perception of morality. Like all our senses, that perception is necessarily limited and often flawed, but it is there nonetheless. Further, we know we can be deceived by our instincts or acquired knowledge, and we look to reason to balance and correct us. In other words, instinctive or acquired knowledge can guide us to the moral good, but we still need to apply reason to them to prevent them from misdirecting us.

What the argument does not say – 4 Christianity is Superior to Atheism


William Lane Craig did it, and I did it in my exchanges on-line, but it is not necessary to the argument. We both got sidetracked into arguing the case that Christianity is superior to Atheism. It’s the natural response to someone’s enquiry into what else there might be, but my argument does not rest or fall on the truth of Christianity.

Technically, this is the fallacy of alternatives, which says that A cannot be true because an alternative, B, is true, or that A is true because B is untrue. My argument does not need an alternative as it stands or falls on its own truthfulness.

On this basis, my argument is not an argument for Christianity. It is actually no more than an argument against the kind of moral outrage expressed by atheists against God.

What the argument does not say – 5 Proof of God


In his book Reasonable Faith, William Lane Craig admits that the Moral Argument for God is a weak argument. In fact, all you need to do to get rid of God is to get rid of morality, and this is where many thinking atheists knowingly go, and where many unthinking atheists unknowingly go.

Possibly, this is the source of the myth that atheists are immoral. However, it is probably more accurate to say that they are amoral. Immoral suggest something that is against morality, whereas amoral suggests something that is without morality. When a shark bites a diver in half, it is acting amorally, but if one diver were to do the same to another (say, with an underwater chainsaw) he or she might well be acting immorally.

Immoral and amoral


The difference between immoral and amoral is one way to properly approach the argument.

In the example above, the shark is acting amorally because it is simply doing what it is programmed to do by its evolutionary inheritance. Most people believe that human beings are different; hence the equivalent act by a human being is qualitatively different. The difference is understood as morality, and so the human diver equivalent of a shark biting a man in half is immoral, or morally evil.

However, according to Atheism, there is no qualitative difference between the human diver and the shark. Human beings and sharks are both products of the same undirected evolutionary processes that we learn about at school and on all the nature channels on TV.

We might think we are morally superior because we have better brains, and hence can think or model the outcomes of our actions (more on this later) – what we understand to be intelligence. We can also make decisions – what we understand to be free-will or agency (more on this later, too). Whereas I can confidently say that I would prefer to have a higher functioning brain than not, there is no empirical, unfalsifiable, experimental evidence to say that having a brain is morally better than the alternative. More to the point, in the Atheistic cosmos, the purposes that serve me and my brain are not intrinsically more moral than the purposes that serve a creature without a similarly developed brain, like a shark or an HIV virus. We just think we are cool because we have one, and the shark or virus doesn’t.

Reasonable and Unreasonable


Unfortunately, the immoral/amoral differentiation does not translate well to reason. When we say that someone is unreasonable, we say that he or she acts against, or opposed to, reason. We don’t have a good equivalent to say that he or she acts without reason – a kind of areasonableness, if you like.

(An older generation would have equated with “without” reason to “against” reason because of the common belief that everything had a reason or a purpose and thus unreasonableness was a denial of the reason for things and hence objectionable – a belief that is now not as widespread as it once was.)

The death of reasonable morality


Faced with the impending death of reasonable morality, the Atheist attempts to put it on life-support by appealing to those valued human characteristics of intelligence and agency. I find the various drips applied to be inadequate, as follows.

Drip 1 – Atheistic Philosophy


From a philosophical point of view, the only avenues open to the atheist are Utilitarianism or Consequentialism, both of which are hotly debated by philosophers of all stripes.

Utilitarianism justifies its actions by doing the greatest good to the greatest number of people. Whereas I agree with the outcome, I find the warrant areasonable because it is founded on the assertion that doing good to people is a moral good. For instance, we could take the view that we have multiplied well beyond the point at which our planet can sustain us. So, from a certain planetary conservationist point of view, the moral good could actually be the extermination of as many people as possible.

Consequentialism justifies its actions by the predicted consequences. Krauss touched on this on Wednesday night, saying that we make decisions based on our understanding of where they will take us, and that the best decisions are the result of rational thought. Yet again, I agree with the outcome, but the warrant is areasonable. It presumes that there is a “there” to go to, but if Atheism were true, and the cosmos is actually an undirected, random phenomenum, then there is no “there”. The best that we can hope for is that we make whatever decision we make in order to get us what we want. The singular flaw here is that this is not morality – it is simply our strategising to get the best outcomes for ourselves.

Drip 2 – Evolutionary Inheritance


From an evolutionary biological point of view, those supposed values of intelligence and agency are far less certain than we thought about a century ago. We know that other animals display a remarkable degree of intelligence – the capacity to model the future and hence make decisions based on a range of potential outcomes. In the Southern US, dolphins team together to drive fish onto the muddy banks of the rivers, where they snap them up. Their intelligence may be quantitavely less than ours, but it is not qualitatively different. Importantly, like them, our intelligence serves us in getting us the best possible outcomes, but there is no scientific means to tell us whether these outcomes are morally better or worse than the team of dolphins snapping up fish on a river bank. If the fish had a point of view, they would definitely challenge the dolphins' actions, regardless of the intelligence and mutual teamwork the dolphins display in carrying them out.

Even agency now appears less certain than it ever did. B F Skinner, his pigeons and his science of radical behaviouralism set out to scientifically dispell the myth of agency. I’ll defer the assessment of how successful he was to those more qualified than I, but at its heart is the notion that our sense of agency is a delusion; we are controlled by our environment far more than we like to admit. This is no ethereal proposition – the entire advertising industry is founded on it. On the morality of human freedom, Skinner said, "It is a mistake to suppose that the whole issue is how to free man. The issue is to improve the way in which he is controlled".

Further, Sir Doctor Jonathan Miller, an Atheist, described human consciousness as an oil slick on the ocean of the subconscious. If the ocean moves the oil slick, what moves the ocean if not our environment? I don't object to this analysis, but what it says is that we, including the atheists, are far more sensitive to the cues around us than we thought.

Contrary to Skinner and Miller, I believe we have the capacity for agency despite the influence of our environments and the instability of our subconsious minds. My reasons are entirely experiential – to borrow from Rene Descartes, I decide, therefore I am. Those decisions might be less independent than I thought, but I don't think I am entirely captive to my environment.

My point here is that the foundation of instinctive or received morality is crumbling. How can we even know the moral good, when our thoughts and feelings are shaped so profoundly by our environments and our instinctive subconscious is so unstable? It seems untenable to believe that rational thought will unfailingly guide us to the moral good. Indeed the very notion of rational thought could be no more than myth and delusion.

Drip 3 – Animalistic Morality


Krauss tried his hand at naturalistic morality, and failed dismally. He said that homosexuality was normal because it is found all throughout the mamallian kingdom. I have no wish to comment on the morality of homosexuality here, nor even its prevalance in species other than humans, but the underlying premise of Krauss’ argument was plainly silly – it was areasonable.

For example, infanticide is prevalent throughout the mamallian kingdom. When a male lion takes over a pride of females, he kills all the cubs he can find. This serves the utility function of ensuring that his DNA, and not a rival’s, is propagated. According to Krauss’ argument, then, we can justify the killing of step-children by their step-fathers. Of course, we recoil from such a possibility because we consider ourselves to be somewhat above the animals. But, if we rise above the animals in infanticide, how can we then descend to them in our sexuality?

The gods of atheism 



The Atheist’s position is thus exposed. His sense of moral outrage is nothing more than his evolutionary heritage generating within him the kind of fight or flight response needed to protect his selfish genes. That this genetic protectionism is projected onto a group such as the Canaanites is purely coincidental. The choice of which side to support is wholly arbitrary – if his genetic coding predispositioned him toward the invading Israelites, he would be cheering.

However, that is not good enough for the likes of Lawrence Krauss and Sam Harris. They have judged the God of Deuteronomy and found him wanting. I believe that the basis for this judgement cannot be reason, because that is impossible in an Atheistic cosmos, despite the application of various kinds of life support that I described above. What they really mean to say is that they don’t like this God. Maybe it’s because their evolutionary heritage does not allow them to. Their problem is that such a statement lacks the same kind of rhetorical punch, it sells less books and there is nothing in it to compel people to Atheism.

If they like something, and I don’t, who is to say that they or I are morally superior? Effectively, then, they destroy morality, and with it the foundation on which they base their criticism of Christianity.

At least Friedrich Nietzsche knew the consequences of declaring that God is dead. With the death of God comes the death of reasonable morality.

A tip of the hat to Anselm


In my exchanges with atheists on line, I tried to convey to them the idea of what God is by using Anselm’s Ontological Argument.

Simply stated, Anselm says that God is the greatest conceivable being. And, as what is in reality is always greater than what can be conceived, God exists.

As a proof of God, Philosophers, such as Alvin Plantinga and William Lane Craig agree that Anselm is undefeatable. Critics say that it is a semantic trap. Again, I’ll leave the assessment to those more qualified than I, but I like the trajectory of Anselm in bringing us to an understanding of what God is. I think Anselm is particularly useful in dispelling ideas of God that have him sitting on a remote cloud in a bathrobe and long beard, or that he lurks around corners and meddles with our affairs according to his own caprice.

In my discussion on morality, I suggested to my Atheist antagonists that they had conceived of a greater being than God. This greater being was no less than the Higher Moral Standard to which they imagined that God was answerable to. According to Anselm, then, if the Higher Moral Standard was greater than the Yahweh of Deuteronomy, then Yahweh was not God, the Higher Moral Standard was. In other words, there was still a God; it just was not Yahweh.

The response of one of the atheists was quite remarkable. To his great credit, he understood the trajectory of Anselm, but his Atheism pulled him back. He concluded that he had found a greater being than God, and that being was himself. I responded that I would hesitate to offer him worship, and he quipped that he would be satisfied with cash donations. We concluded the conversation there, on what I hoped was a cordial note.

I cannot go the same way as my atheist interlocutor. It would be deluded of me to think that I am that Higher Morality, not least because I presume to know better than my neighbour, and his neighbour and so on.

On Wednesday, Krauss ridiculed believers in saying that there had been about a thousand “gods” in history, so we are probably deluded in believing that ours is the “right” one. If he had followed Anselm, he would have realized that instead of the thousand or so “gods” proposed by the various Theisms, Atheism presents us with several billion – the entire human population of the cosmos, to be precise, multiplied by the number of times we change our minds from day to day.

The argument that Yahweh performed a moral evil in Deuteronomy is therefore an argument for, not against, God. If true, the damage it does to the Judeao Christian religion is that it demotes Yahweh down the order, but it does so by proposing a greater being than Yahweh and hence relocates God on a level higher than Yahweh. It’s a shuffling of the pack, but it’s not a denial that the pack exists, or even that Yahweh is present as a player in the pack.

Of course, Christians recoil from the notion that Yahweh could perform a moral evil, and so they turn their attention to whether the killing of Canaanite children was actually a moral evil. Craig put forward a plausible scenario, that drew much ridicule from Krauss. More commonly, Christians would say that we do not know all the reasons why God would do such a thing, but we must believe that he did not do a moral evil. Hence, we come to the possible source of the myth that Christians say that we must simply accept it by faith.

It is reasonable to argue that the Christian model of God is inaccurate? For instance, that it was wrong to credit the killing of the Canaanites to the Divine Will? To do this, one must first acknowledge that there is a Divine Will, and that it willed something other than the killing of the Canaanites. The dilemma the atheist faces is that he cannot go there without contravening his own Atheism. He is forced to state that it was an act of greed and xenophobia, but if that greed and xenophobia was nothing more than the outworking of the Israelites' evolutionary heritage, how can he say it was morally evil?

The final score, Craig v Krauss


I found Craig’s response to Krauss’ objection reasonable, though time did not allow him to develop it fully. In my assessment, Craig did not develop this argument against Krauss well enough, but instead proposed an alternative based on the Judaeo-Christian tradition. I respect that Judaeo-Christian tradition, and understand that Craig was proposing a plausible scenario, whereas Krauss did not, but it was not necessary to defeat Krauss. Krauss, like many atheists dismissed the alternative, not because it was implausible, but because he did not like it.

If we dismiss everything because we don’t like it, where would we be? We would certainly not be thinking rationally, which is ironic, as Krauss has crossed land and sea to try to persuade us that rational thinking is the morally right thing to do.

Conclusion


I have yet to see a way to defeat the argument that Atheism denies a reasonable warrant to morality. This being the case, the atheist has no reasonable warrant to object to the killing of Canaanite children, or any other act, for that matter. It is his perogative to like it or not, but that is not morality. The morality of these acts can only be addressed in the context of Theism. Atheism is defeated in this case.

It seems to me that there are only two possibilities; that there is a God and we live in a moral universe, or that there is no God and we live in an amoral universe. The Atheist's outrage at the killing of Canaanite children has meaning in only one of these universes, and it's not the one with no God.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Lucifer's Parables

The parables of Jesus comprise a wonderful anthology of wisdom. Usually, he starts them with “The Kingdom of God/Heaven is like …” and then goes on to describe a scenario of how things are.

Just for fun, I thought it might be interesting to attempt an anthology of un-wisdom – anti-parables, if you like - that start with “The Kingdom of Hell is like …” and then go on to describe the absurdity how things are.

Here’s my first attempt

The Parable of the Pygmy

The Kingdom of Hell is like the Pygmy who claimed he was a giant. There was some substance to his claim because he was taller than the other pygmies in his tribe, and he had never seen a giant, let alone measured himself against one. When he was told that there might be giants beyond the world he knew, he reacted indignantly. “Are you questioning my vertical superiority?” he demanded. “If there were giants,” he then claimed, “then I am their chief, because I am a giant.”
This is how I see everyone who claims to possess some kind of moral superiority over others, whilst denying God. Sam Harris seems to fit this role.

Extension

The point of this parable is not to argue about who is taller. It’s more about the merits of being tall. In other words, why is being tall a good thing, and how can having it imbue the tall person with authority? If atheism were true, then these qualities and perceptions would be a Darwinian hangover from the time when our hominid ancestors walked the savannah in Africa, and the taller ones were better equipped to see the horizon and thus set a direction for the clan. The result is that tallness qualifies an individual to take authority.

But why apply this to tallness, and not a sense of morality? If atheism were true, the same processes that produced tallness also produced our sense of morality, our other virtues and our intellects. So, if our perceived association of authority with tallness is a Darwinian hiccup, how can we account for our perceived association of truth with morality and why does this give someone who perceives himself as moral the right to define morality? Like the Pygmy's perception of his own tallness, such a person is simply calibrating his moral compass by his own morality.

Harris, and his guild, argue that humans are innately special because of their intellects and morality. Perhaps it’s a coincidence that he is a Berkeley professor with a keen sense of morality. However, if his atheism were true, his intellect and morality would be nothing more than a Darwinian hiccup in much the same way as his tallness (or lack thereof) is. And, what of the humans who are not intellectual, who are not moral? We may not like them (another Darwinian hiccup), but we are essentially the same species, brought into being by the same processes, and destined for the same end. What, then, is the reasonable basis for our claim that we are good and they are bad?

Ultimately, there is none, so we resort to instinct, which naturally tends to confirmation-bias and tells us that we are the good guys, because, hey, we are us, and we keep affirming our own goodness and we have surrounded ourselves with friends and family who tell us that we are good and those that didn't have since been expelled from our clan. Surely it hasn't escaped the Professor of Neuroscience that even our instincts are nothing more than Darwinian hiccups?

So, with that in mind, let’s return to the parable with a post script

Now in the Pygmy’s forest there lived a predatory species of Drop-Bears. The Drop-Bears hung in the trees by their elasticated tails and bungee-jumped down onto their prey below. They were a fine example of evolutionary design because their tails were just the right springiness to get them to within four feet of the ground. Any further, and they would bury their jaws into the ground; any less, and they would miss their prey.

One day, the King Pygmy walked through his forest with his servants, proudly pointing out all he could see because he was taller than they. Unknowingly, he walked below a Drop-Bear that promptly bungee-jumped down from its tree and bit his head clean off. The pygmy-servants, who were only three feet tall (and thus safe from the jaws of the Drop-Bears), ran away in terror, but at least they had their heads.

The Drop-Bears would have rejoiced that night that a Pygmy had developed a smidgen of vertical superiority. But they didn't because the evolutionary process that had equipped them with their fine tails didn't equip them with the intellectual or moral capacity to rejoice.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

An oasis in the desolation - real romance

Usually (or so it seems to me) the stuff pumped out from the TV on marriage is a depressing litany of failure and ideological posturing; so much so that I routinely avoid it.

On Friday, I caught myself watching a BBC documentary - Episode 3 of Love and Marriage: A 20th Century Romance - possibly because it featured Toyah Willcox and Robert Fripp (she of punk rock, and he of King Crimson). It also featured four other couples I had never heard of.

I was so impressed that, if ever it was up to me, I'd recommend it as part of a marriage preparartion (or reparation?) course. These couples were all different in their own right, but what united them was their experience of the challenges and rewards of a total life-commitment to their husbands and wives within the bond of marriage. It was an inspiration to see the their absolute determination, love and teary-eyed joy in their marriages. It was something they decided to do, something they worked at. They hadn't just fallen into it and passively let it happen. They didn't just go along with it while they could get something out of it. They were absolute about their marriages. They truly embodied love.

After the so-called sexual revolution and current challenges to the most fundamental social institution on earth, will the infamous Gen Y ever 'discover' the joy of marriage? I hope so.