Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Interview With Walker Percy

Q: Do you regard yourself as a Catholic novelist?

A: Since I am a Catholic and a novelist, it would seem to follow that I am a Catholic novelist.

Q: What kind of Catholic are you?

A: Bad.

Q: No, I mean are you liberal or conservative?

A: I no longer know what those words mean.

Q: Are you a dogmatic Catholic or an open-minded Catholic?

A: I don't know what that means, either. Do you mean, do I believe the dogma that the Catholic Church proposes for belief?

Q: Yes.

A: Yes.

Q. How is such a belief possible in this day and age?

A: What else is there?

Q: What do you mean, what else is there? There is humanism, atheism, agnosticism, Marxism, behaviorism, materialism, Buddhism, Muhammadism, Sufism, astrology, occultism, theosophy.

A: That's what I mean.

Q: To say nothing of Judaism and Protestantism.

A: Well, I would include them along with the Catholic Church in the whole peculiar Jewish-Christian thing.

Q: I don't understand. Would you exclude, for example, scientific humanism as a rational and honorable alternative?

A: Yes.

Q: Why?

A: It's not good enough.

Q: Why not?

A: This life is much too much trouble, far too strange, to arrive at the end of it and then to be asked what you make of it and have to answer "Scientific Humanism." That won't do. A poor show. Life is a mystery, love is a delight. Therefore I take it as axiomatic that one should settle for nothing less than the infinite mystery and the infinite delight, i.e. God. In fact, I demand it. I refuse to settle for anything less. I don't see why anyone should settle for less than Jacob, who actually grabbed aholt of God and wouldn't let go until God identified himself and blessed him.

Q: Grabbed aholt?

A: Louisiana expression

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

N.T. Wright: Adam and Eve

John Walton: How to Read Genesis 1

Pete Enns: Challenging Old Assumptions

Prayer

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.


Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.


Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.


Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

Carol Ann Duffy

Friday, July 29, 2011

And yet us look upon this...as a kind of journey or voyage to our native land

...And let us look upon this purification as a kind of journey or voyage to our native land. For it is not by change of place that we come nearer to Him who is in every place, but by the cultivation of pure desires and virtuous habits...

But of this we would have been wholly incapable, had not Wisdom condescended to adapt Himself to our weakness, and to show a pattern of holy life in the form of our own humanity. Yet, since we when we come to Him do wisely, He when he came to us was considered by proud men to have done very foolishly. And since we when we come to him become strong, He when he came to us became weak. But "the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (1 Cor. 1.25). And thus, though Wisdom was himself our home, He made Himself also the way by which we should reach our home...

And though He is everywhere present to the inner eye when it is sound and clear, He considered to make Himself manifest to the outward eye of those whose inward sight is weak and dim. "For after that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe" (1 Cor. 1.21). Not then in the sense of traversing space, but because he appeared to mortal men in the form of mortal flesh, He is said to have come to us. For he came to a place where He had always been, seeing that "He was in the world, and the world was made by Him." But, because men, who in their eagerness to enjoy the creature instead of the Creator had grown into the likeness of this world, and therefore most appropriately named "the world" did not recognise Him, therefore the evangelist says, "and the world knew Him not" (John 1.1o). Thus, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not God. Why then did he come, seeing that he was already here, except that it pleased God through the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe?

...In what way did He come but this, "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1.14)? Just as when we speak, in order that what we have in our minds may enter through the ear into the mind of the hearer, the word which we have in our hearts becomes an outward sound and is called speech; and yet our thought does not lose itself in the sound, but remains complete in itself, and takes the form of speech without being modified in its own nature by change: so the Divine Word, through suffering no change of nature, yet became flesh that he might dwell among us."


Augustine, On Christian Doctine, Book I, Ch.10-13

Friday, July 8, 2011

God is Love

“The accomplishment of redemption is concerned with what has been generally called the atonement. No treatment of the atonement can be properly oriented that does not have its source in the free and sovereign love of God. It is with this perspective that the best known text in the Bible provides us: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3.16). Here we have an ultimate of divine revelation and therefore of human thought. Beyond this we cannot and dare not go…

...It is necessary to underline this concept of sovereign love. Truly God is love. Love is not something adventitious; it is not something that God may choose to be or choose not to be. He is love, and that necessarily, inherently and eternally. As God is spirit, as he is light, so he is love. Yet it belongs to the very essence of electing love to recognise that it is not inherently necessary to that love which God necessarily and eternally is that he should set such love as issues in redemption and adoption upon utterly undesirable and hell-deserving objects. It was of the free and sovereign good pleasure of his will, a good pleasure that emanated from the depths of his own goodness, that he chose a people to be heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ. The reason resides wholly in himself and proceeds from determinations that are peculiarly his as the “I am that I am.” The atonement does not win or constrain the love of God. The love of God constrains to the atonement as the means accomplishing love’s determinate purpose.

It must be regarded, therefore, as a settled datum that the love of God is the cause and source of the atonement…”


John Murray, Redemption Accomplished and Applied, Ch.1, p.9-10

Thursday, July 7, 2011

James K A Smith's Refreshing Vision of Reformed Theology



Just this morning, I happened to pick up Letters to a Young Calvinist: An Invitation to the Reformed Tradition by James K A Smith, Christian philosopher and aesthete extraordinaire. Having only invested a half hour or so reading through the pleasingly brisk content of his letters, I have already been struck by Smith’s refreshing take on Reformed theology. Nothing new, per se; simply a reemphasis on what lies at the very heart of the Reformed tradition. Smith has already written a bevy of books I am keen to read. His latest published work, Thinking in Tongues, explores the constructive dimensions of Pentecostal theology. In the youtube clip above Smith touches on this briefly, examining aspects of Reformed thinking through the lens of Pentecostal theology. His argues that Pentecostalism can restore a holism to contemporary Reformed tradition that is largely lacking. Food for thought. Smith is as stimulating as ever. Below are two segments from Letters to a Young Calvinist, short pithy paragraphs I thought well worth reproducing.

“Finally, while these letters are written as an invitation to the Reformed tradition, such an invitation can only be instrumental, a way station of sorts. For the fount and end of the Reformed tradition is God himself as revealed to us in Jesus Christ and present with us in the person of the Holy Spirit. In other words, these letters are an invitation into the life of God. In his fifth century manual for preachers, Teaching Christian Doctrine (De doctrina Christiana), Augustine notes how strange it would be if a traveller to a distant country became so enamoured with his means of conveyance that he never got out of the boat, even though the whole purpose of the ship was to convey him to another shore. The Reformed tradition is a way, not a destination; it is a means; not an end; it is a way onto the Way that is the road to and with Jesus. It is a ship that conveys us to the shore of the kingdom of God and propels us to an encounter with the Word become flesh. These letters are just little brochures spreading the news about the journey” (from the Introduction, p.XV)

“That’s a tall order: to sum up Reformed faith in one word! I suspect that you’re trying to bait me, expecting my answer to be a strange one: TULIP – that felicitous turn of phrase…I know you’ve already heard it put that way, but I would answer your challenge a little differently. In a word, Reformed theology is fundamentally about grace. Let me explain.


At its heart, Calvinism is simply a lens that magnifies a persistent theme in the narrative of God’s self-revelation: that everything depends on God. Everything is a gift. This doesn’t just apply to salvation – it’s true of creation itself. God created the world out of – and for – his pleasure, as an act of love. There’s no hint of necessity or requirement here: God could not have created the world. The world exists (and is sustained) only because of God’s sovereign action; and creation is still radically dependant on God’s gift of existence (Col. 1.16-17). So we might say that grace goes “all the way down.” To merely exist as a creature is to be dependant on the gift of existence granted by a gracious God: to be is to be graced. “In him we live and move and have our being,” as Paul put it (Acts 17.28 – quoting a philosopher, by the way).

This theology of radical grace is captured in one of Augustine’s favourite verses, 1 Corinthians 4:7: “What do you have that you did not receive?” The answer, of course, is nothing; or, stated positively, everything we have is something we have received as a gift. So we have no reason to “boast,” Paul says, as if anything was “ours” in the first place” (Letter IV, Grace All the Way Down, p.14-15)

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Dispatches From Elsewhere #3: The Resurrection - a Bizarre Belief?

Follow the link below to getserious.ie - Ireland's very own burgeoning apologetics website. Essential reading. This particular link will take you to Professor Stephen Williams' excellent article on the resurrection, entitled The Resurrection of Jesus: A Bizarre Belief? Stephen Williams is the Professor of Systematic Theology at Union Theological College, Belfast.

http://www.getserious.ie/?p=185#more-185

Haworth's 10 Ways #6: The Moral Argument (Part 2)

The most persuasive advocate of the moral argument Keller sets forth in the post below was C. S. Lewis (1898–1963). The following is a summary of the argument he articulates in his book Mere Christianity:

There must be a universal moral law, or else: a) Moral disagreements would make no sense, as we all assume they do. b) All moral criticisms would be meaningless (for example, ‘The Nazis were wrong.’) c) It would be unnecessary to keep promises or treaties, as we all assume that it is. d) We would not make excuses for breaking the moral law, as we all do.

But a universal moral law requires a universal Moral Law Giver, since the Source of it: a) Gives moral commands (as lawgivers do). b) Is interested in our behaviour (as moral persons are).

Further, this universal Moral Law Giver must be absolutely good: a) Otherwise all moral effort would be futile in the long run, since we would be sacrificing our lives for what is not ultimately right. b) The source of all good must be absolutely good, since the standard of all good must be completely good.

Therefore, there must be an absolutely Moral Law Giver.

It is often argued against the moral argument that the moral law is simply an expression of our in-built “herd-instinct”. In response so such an objection, we can point out that if the moral law was just an expression of herd instinct then the herd would always be right. But herd instinct is not always right (and everyone will agree with that). For example, even the actions prompted by nationalism or ‘love’ can be very wrong. If the moral law was the result of herd-instinct, the stronger instinctive impulse in us would always win out. But, as it is, that is not the case; people often choose not to act from instinct in selfless ways that go against the ethic of the herd.

Similarly, it is often said that the moral law is simply social convention, what we learn from parents and schooling. But, not everything learned through society is based purely on social convention. For example, we learn about maths and logic through the social institutions of schools and universities, but few people insist they are merely social conventions.

Importantly too, the moral law is not to be identified with the laws of nature. The laws of nature are descriptive (is) unlike moral laws which are prescriptive (ought). The way things are is not always right. The moral law does not simply describe the reality of things but demands a moral action on our part that often causes us to act against the way things are. We are compelled by the moral law to hate injustice. Just because the government of a country may be causing its people to starve for lack of food and facilities does not make it right. In fact, such actions are criminal. The way something is can be morally wrong. When people act in accordance with their nature (for example, basic appetites for power and so on) they can act in morally wrong ways. Is is not always right. The moral law does not simply describe us as we are but demands we live in accordance with a law that often challenges and contradicts who we are. In that sense, the moral law often contradicts what nature dictates. It transcends biology and as such, is founded on something more profound than merely genetics, survival of the fittest and personal selfishness.

Perhaps the main challenge that can be levelled against the idea that there is a moral law giving God is the argument from evil or injustice in the world. The world is full of violence, hatred, murder, rape, abuse and so on. Does that not contradict the idea that there is a good God who has established moral laws? The answer, in a sense, is simple: the only way the world could possibly be imperfect is if there is an absolutely perfect standard by which it can be judged to be imperfect. Injustice only makes sense if there is an absolute standard of justice to appeal to. Injustice can only be recognised if we have internalised a standard of what is just and unjust. Such a standard is, of course, the moral law. In the same way, if we intuitively recognise the world as being intrinsically imperfect, there must be a standard by which perfection is known. The fact that we recognise evil as evil presupposes a perfect standard of morality. In that sense, the argument from evil, rather than disproving a morally perfect Being, actually presupposes and points to his existence.

Of course, the question of evil is deeply complex and challenging. Ultimately, however, only Christianity is nuanced enough to properly and adequately answer the vexing question of evil. As Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:

“…the problem (of evil) is not simple and the answer is not going to be simple either. What is the problem? A universe that contains much that is obviously bad and apparently meaningless, but containing creatures like ourselves who know that it is bad and meaningless. There are only two views that face all the facts. One is the Christian view that this is a good world that has gone wrong, but still retains the memory of what it ought to have been. The other is the view called Dualism. Dualism means the belief that there are two equal and independent powers at the back of everything, one of them good and the other bad, and that the universe is the battlefield in which they fight out an endless war…”

Lewis goes on to explain that Dualism commits us to the belief that good and bad existed from all eternity, opposing oneanother. What do we mean by calling one a Bad Power and the other a Good Power? We are either saying we prefer one and not the other, or we are saying that one is actually wrong and the other right. It is not purely a matter of what we prefer; the moral categories of bad and good are irrelevant if we are simply going to make a choice between the two on the basis of what suits us. As soon as we are trying to discern which is the Good Power, we are aiming to live in accordance with it, whether it suits us or not. The Good Power would not deserve to be called good if “being good” simply meant joining the side you happened to like. The moment we make a distinction between which of the two powers is actually wrong and which is actually right we are

“…putting into the universe a third thing in addition to the two Powers: some law or standard or rule of good which one of the powers conforms to and the other fails to conform to. But since the two powers are judged by this standard, then this standard, or the Being who made this standard, is farther back and higher than either of them, and He will be the real God. In fact, what we meant by calling them good and bad turns out to be that one of them is in right relation to the ultimate God and the other is in wrong relation to Him.”

In a sense, then, according to Lewis, as soon as we evaluate what is right and wrong, what is good or bad, we are invoking the standard of the moral law that is itself a reflection of the moral nature of God. In calling something good or bad at any time we are judging their right or wrong relation to the ultimate God who is the ground of our being.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Tim Keller: The Problem of Evil and Suffering

David Bentley Hart : Suffering and the Problem of Evil

Haworth's 10 Ways #6: The Moral Argument

The moral argument is likely to be one of the most persuasive ‘proofs’ we can use to demonstrate the existence of a good, loving God. Essentially, this argument seeks to show that if there are morals and laws in the world then there must be a Moral Law Giver. Of all the arguments we can rally on to help demonstrate the existence of God, this one is perhaps the most emotionally compelling and persuasive.

People do have an internal compass of moral sensibility. Whether they admit it or not, people do believe certain things are objectively wrong. As Tim Keller writes in The Reason for God:

“All human beings have moral feelings. Moral obligation is the belief that some things ought not to be done regardless of how a person feels about them within herself, regardless of what the rest of her community and culture says, and regardless of whether it is in her self-interest or not…Though we have been taught that all moral values are relative to individuals and cultures, we can’t live like that. In actual practise, we inevitably treat some principles as absolute standards by which we judge the behaviour of those who don’t share our values. What gives us the right to do that if all moral beliefs are relative? Nothing gives us the right. Yet we can’t stop it...We do not only have moral feelings, but we have an ineradicable belief that moral standards exist, outside of us, by which our internal moral feelings are evaluated. Why?”

Keller goes on to answer the question by pointing out that we are convinced that every human being possesses inviolable dignity. But how can we be sure? If all morals are simply the products of whatever culture we happen to be part of, who is to say one culture’s morality is better than another’s?

Generally, theorists who are trying to establish a foundation for morality have discounted the existence of God as a basis for human dignity. However, it is still believed that every human being has inherent dignity and must be treated as such. Having discounted the existence of God as the basis for human moralty, two major alternatives remain:

1. Natural Law: In the place of God, an analysis of human nature and the natural world yields binding rules of moral behaviour. When all is said and done, this is very problematic. Nature simply does not provide us with a satisfying ground for morality; it thrives on violence and on the survival of the fittest. Similarly, the human species, though sometimes noble and good, can also be shockingly cruel, greedy and amoral. The concept of the dignity of the human individual simply cannot be based on the way things work in nature.

2. We Create Moral Laws: Again, problems very quickly arise when we take this approach. If we create moral laws then who decides how they ought to be written? What if the most powerful body of people writes laws to satisfy themselves at the expense of a minority group? Ultimately, without God, moral law is based on human whimsy. And this is not a satisfying alternative. As Keller writes:


“If there is no God, then there is no way to say one action is ‘moral’ and another ‘immoral’ but only ‘I like this’. If that is the case, who gets the right to put their subjective, arbitrary moral feelings into law? You may say ‘the majority has the right to make the law’, but do you mean that then the majority has the right to vote to exterminate a minority? If you say, ‘No, that is wrong,’ then you are back to square one…Why should your moral convictions be obligatory for those in opposition? Why should your view prevail over the will of the majority? The fact is…if there is no God, then all moral statements are arbitrary, all moral values are subjective and internal, and there can be no external moral standard by which a persons feelings and values are judged.“

Despite their lack of belief in God, people will continue to insist that objective moral beliefs exist. However, ultimately, if there is no God, there is no fixed foundation for moral laws. We only know things are wrong in relation to an absolute standard above ourselves. If we do not have something by which to measure morality, it is really not worth anything. It is something we conjure up. Therefore, as Keller concludes:

“If a premise (‘There is no God’) leads to a conclusion you know isn’t true (‘Nepalming babies is culturally relative’) then why not change the premise?”

In other words, if you insist that there are moral absolutes, why not embrace the only truth that will permit the true foundation and authority of such absolutes – the existence of the God who created them in the first place? As William Lane Craig remarks in his book Reasonable Faith, “Unless we are nihilists, we have to recognise some ultimate standard of value, and God is the least arbitrary stopping point.”

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Calvin: A Sense of Deity Inscribed on the Hearts of All

Calvin reflects on the God-thirst in the soul, all too often warped and directed toward finite objects that will never satisfy it. In his interview with Jeremy Paxman below, Brand articulates Calvin's insight in contemporary lingo shaped by our media-frenzied and fame-entranced culture.

"There is within the human mind, and indeed by natural instinct, an awareness of divinity. This we take to be beyond controversy. To prevent anyone from taking refuge in the pretense of ignorance, God himself has implanted in all men a certain understanding of his divine majesty. Ever renewing its memory, he repeatedly sheds fresh drops. Since, therefore, men one and all perceive that there is a God and that he is their Maker, they are condemned by their own testimony because they have failed to honor him and consecrate their lives to his will. If ignorance of God is to be looked for anywhere, surely one is most likely to find an example of it among the more backward folk and those more remote from civilisation. Yet there is, as the eminent pagan says, no nation so barbarous, no people so savage, that they have not a deep-seated conviction that there is a God. And they who in other aspects of life seem least to differ from brutes still continue to retain some seed of religion. So deeply does the common conception occupy the minds of all, so tenaciously does it inhere in the hearts of all! Therefore, since from the beginning of the world there has been no region, no city, in short, no household, that could do without religion, there lies in this a tacit confession of a sense of deity inscribed in the hearts of all.

Indeed, even idolatory is ample proof of this conception. We know how man does not willingly humble himself so as to place other creatures over himself. Since, then, he prefers to worship wood and stone rather than be thought of as having no God, clearly this is a most vivid impression of a divine being. So impossible is it to blot this from man's mind that natural disposition would be more easily altered, as altered indeed it is when man voluntarily sinks from his natural haughtiness to the very depths in order to honor God!" John Calvin, The Institutes of Christian Religion, Vol. II, ch. 2

Haworth's 10 Ways #5: The Argument From Religious Need

Russell Brand's articulate murmurings about his desire for God and his positive belief that God does exist (see below) provides the springboard for Haworths Fifth Way. There are profound human yearnings that no earthly thing will ever satisfy. As C. S. Lewis remarked somewhere, "If I find in myself a desire that no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

This argument seeks to demonstrate that the universal phenomenon of the human desire that God exist is in itself sufficient evidence that such a God does in fact exist. Atheistic thinkers have sought first to underline the human desire that God exist and have then boiled it down to one of two factors; either wish-fulfilment or evolutionary biology. The reality is, actually, that neither the wish-fulfilment hypothesis nor the facts of evolutionary biology (though they do explain the human desire that God exist) in no way effectively disprove the existence of God. What has been offered, in fact, is a genetic fallacy in each case (the "how" of something doesn't explain the "why" question it elicits).

It was Sigmund Freud who was the first to try to explain the phenomenon of religious belief on the basis of psychological wish-fulfilment. His theory has been enormously influential. It is simply this: in the face of the suffering and difficulty of life, people hope there is a kind, loving God. Although the notion of God is an illusion, it is a wish that people cling to as it offers comfort and hope in the face of inevitable death. Of course, Freud is probably right; most people do hope and wish that there is a good and loving God who can do away with death. But just because it is a wish and a hope in no way discredits this basic human desire. The two can go together; we can have a psychological belief or hope that does actually accord with reality. To simply describe the psychological belief and then discount it on that basis is simply a genetic fallacy. People, on the basis of their psychological make-up, may hope and wish that there is a God. There is nothing to say that such a psychological need is not a fundamental God-given human trait. The argument from religious need begins with this most fundamental human desire or need and builds on it.

Before we look at this argument, it is worth noting the other genetic fallacy that often passes for a serious argument against the existence of God. It is a variation on the wish-fulfilment hypothesis. Generally, atheistic writers will assume that religious belief is a quirk of evolutionary biology, something that evolved in humans over time to enable them to adapt and cope with a difficult environment. Now, again, this in no way disproves the existence of God. It is a genetic fallacy. The reality is that if God has created all things and is supreme over the evolutionary process of all life, it is not unlikely he would factor in an in innate desire or sense of the divine in his creatures. Just because such a desire is present in no way disproves the existence of a Creator God. Both can go together.

Having dealt with the only two major arguments that would seek to undermine the integrity of belief (the argument from wish-fulfilment and evolutionary biology), the next step might be to simply underline the continual and constant evidence of the human hunger and need for God. The basic form of the argument is as follows:

1.Human beings really need God.
2.What humans really need probably really exists.
3.Therefore, God really exists.

The second premise may prove to be problematic but it is simply necessary to point out the difference between unfulfillable immediate wants and deep-seated, fundamental needs. The universe would be irrational if the basic needs of humans did not correspond to what could satisfy them (hunger corresponds to the existence of food and thirst corresponds to the existence of water, and so on). However, the crux of the argument is this: do humans have a real need for God or is it merely a felt need? If there is a real need then why does not everyone experience it?

The oft-repeated quote of Augustine, to the effect that our hearts are restless until they rest in God, chimes in with what this argument drives at. Firstly, it is important to point out that the felt need for God is not limited to unthinking, uncritical or psychologically needy people. Some of the greatest minds have confessed a deep and profound hunger for God; theologians like Augustine, Anselm, Aquinas, scientists like Galileo Galilei, Nicholaus Copernicus, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein and philosophers like Rene Descartes, John Locke, Soren Kierkegaard and Simone Weil were all massively influential thinkers. One cannot claim that it was intellectual deficiency which led to their perceived need for God. Secondly, it is important to note that even atheists, despite their protestations to the contrary, feel what can be called a religious impulse. Jean-Paul Sartre reputedly stated: “I needed God…I reached out for religion, I longed for it, it was the remedy. Had it been denied me, I would have invented it myself.” In his book, Beyond Consolation, John Waters writes about a debate in University College Cork in which he went up against the atheist thinker Peter Atkins (the motion was: ‘That This House Believes Religion Has No Place in the Modern World’). In the aftermath, as they spoke together, Waters writes:

“As we walked across the campus afterwards, I jokingly said to him that it was somewhat ironic, given his vehemence in the argument, that of the two of us, I alone had a chance of being vindicated. He asked me what I meant. I said, ‘If you’re right, neither of us will ever know, whereas if I’m right, we’ll both know.’ He laughed, fell silent for a moment and responded: ‘It’s much worse than that, I’m afraid, because if you’re right, I’m going to be very happy!’

Even committed atheists will often admit to their personal desire that God exists, despite the philosophical framework of their beliefs. As Waters goes on to remark, there is a fundamental human need for hope and a vision of some destination beyond the repetitions of earthly reality. This fundamental human need is only answered by the existence of God.

The theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768 – 1834) defined religion as a feeling of absolute dependence. This could be expressed as a fundamental dependence on the “All” or the “Ultimate”, the sense of life as “sacred” or a sense of personal insignificance (even dread) in the face of the vast universe. If that is true, we can enlarge our definition of what defines the fundamental religious impulse. Most people will admit to this basic feeling of dependence that Schleiermacher spoke of. This can be unpacked further: why is there a fundamental feeling of dependence that frames human experience and existence? Is it not likely that such a feeling might correspond to our basic reliance on the God who brought us into being? In another sense, the religious impulse can be defined as an “ultimate commitment” or any ideal that is pursued with great conviction. In that sense, everybody is religious. Everyone has a life-goal to which their abilities, time and energy are directed toward. There is a basic human need for significance and a commitment to a higher ideal.

Finally, though, it has to be said that satisfaction originates in the personal. We were created for an “I-Thou” relationship, not an “I-it” relationship. Religious experience is always personal. As persons we are most satisfied when in relation to another person, another “thou”, rather than an object, an “it” – whether that is an ideal, a mathematical theorem (a “theory of everything”) or a philosophical framework. As such, although people will direct their ultimate commitment to humanist ideals or a form of science devoid of God, inevitably such things will be imbued with personal, God-like qualities. What emerges is a warm-hearted devotion to theories, frameworks or ideals that is fitting only in the context of an “I-Thou” relationship. In other words, God is displaced by something other. And yet, whatever that “other” may be, it is nothing less than “God” for those who commit themselves to it. We cannot escape the fact that human beings were created for a personal “I-Thou” relationship with the living God. If people refuse to acknowledge and worship the God who is there, inevitably they will worship something (or someone) else to fill the vacuum. Human beings are fundamentally religious. The desire for transcendence and a personal encounter with the divine is insatiable.

The argument from religious need simply aims to zone in on this basic human appetite for transcendence and the desire for God. It strives to pointedly force the following question: if there is a fundamental human need for God (that cannot be explained away by appeals to psychology or science), is it not likely that the need corresponds to a real reality, the reality of the God who is there?

Monday, June 27, 2011

Russell Brand on GOD


Russel Brand, famous only for his libertine excess, here waxes lyrical on the vacuous nature of celebrity, the hollowness of fame and the pursuit of God. In no uncertain terms he claims that everything his fame and celebrity brings him - sexual promiscuity, wealth, pleasure, media attention etc - are but mere shadows of the only thing that will ever truly satisfy him; God. He admits that he is, like so many people, simply running after shadows, obeying the endless yearnings of the human heart for significance and purpose. Brand admits that fame, the very thing many people aspire to as the ultimate prize, is nothing but dust and ashes. It is a fascinating interview.

Haworth's 10 Ways #4: The Argument From Design

The most famous form of this argument was put forward by William Paley (1734 – 1805), who employed the watchmaker analogy. Since every watch has a watchmaker, and since the universe is exceedingly more complex in its operation than a watch, it follows that there must be a Maker of the universe. The teleological argument reasons from design to an Intelligent Designer. It works as follows:

All designs imply a designer.
There is great design in the universe.
Therefore, there must be a Great Designer of the universe.

When we see encounter complex design of any kind, we immediately assume there is a designer behind it. Experience teaches us that complex design is the product of the mind of a designer. For example, watches imply watchmakers, buildings imply architects and paintings imply artists. All coded messages, language and information imply an intelligent sender. Furthermore, the greater the design, the greater the designer. The more complex the design, the greater the intelligence required to produce it. Birds construct nests but could never assemble the Luas line. A thousand monkeys sitting at typewriters for millions of years could never produce Hamlet. Only Shakespeare could pull it off. Similarly, the complex design of the universe implies a designer of vast intelligence.


Complex design entails specified complexity. A crystal and a snowflake have specificity but not complexity. They have the same basic patterns repeated over and over. A polymer is a large molecule composed of repeating structural units typically connected by covalent chemical bonds. It has complexity but not specificity. However, a living cell has both specificity and complexity. This kind of complexity could never be produced by purely natural laws. It is always the result of an intelligent being.

Living cells contain the same kind of complexity encountered in human language, engineering and technological design. Letter sequence in the four-letter genetic alphabet is identical to that in a written language. The amount of complex information in a simple one-cell is greater than that found in Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary. The presence of information, tailored into the fabric of the cosmos, suggests the presence of a Supreme Mind. On a basic human level, complex information and organized language always suggests to us the presence and activity of a thinking, creative intelligence. Why should we not apply the same criteria to the information and complexity encountered in the cellular fabric of the vast cosmos?

The genetic information of the human brain expressed in bits is probably comparable to the total number of connections among neurons – about 100 trillion; 1014 bits. If written out in English, that much information would fill roughly 20 million volumes. Thus, the equivalent of 20 million volumes is locked away in every human head. The brain is a vast, expansive labyrinth of information contained in a very small space. The neuro-chemistry of the brain contains the circuitry of a machine more wonderful than anything humans have ever devised. If the simplest computer requires a designer, then why not the immensely intricate marvel of the human brain?

In the same way, when we encounter any kind of human artifact, we immediately assume there is intelligence behind it. For example, whether we pick up an i-phone or whether we dig up the ancient remains of a by-gone human settlement (unearthing for example, axe heads or pottery) we immediately assume such things are the product of creative intelligence. They bear the hallmarks of design; they were created with particular purposes in mind. We do not for a second assume that the complexity and specificity of these objects are the result of chance processes that just happen to form them. We know that they are the product of human intelligence and design.

In the same vein, when we encounter patterns of design in the created world, it is illogical to force an interpretation that simply would not apply to the i-phone or the axe-heads. If the created world bears the hallmarks of design, it is not illogical to posit the existence of a creative intelligence behind it. In fact, it is quite rational and more than that, it is basically intuitive. The very existence of a universe so incredibly complex and nuanced demands the existence of an immensely intelligent creator. To accept that the i-phone and the axe-heads are the product of intentional, intelligent design and then, in the same breath, to insist that the universe is the product of random, unintentional, blind processes is a contradiction in terms. The universe bears precisely the same marks of complexity and specificity (only infinitely more so) as the designed implements of human technology. So then, if the i-phone and the axe-heads are the product of ordered, intentional, intelligent design, then why not the vast and immensely intricate marvel of the universe?

Friday, June 3, 2011

Haworth's 10 Ways #3: Floody's Wager

This is a very famous proof originally formulated by Blaise Pascal. Normally it is referred to as Pascal's Wager for this very reason. Once a week I meet Gerald Flood ("Floody"), a guy who lives around the corner from Immanuel church, where I work. We meet up over coffee and read through a portion of Scripture. It just so happened that today we happened to be discussing the positive things that come with believing in God. He proceeded to outline what basically follows below. I told him that a guy called Pascal had come to the same conclusion a few hundred years ago and presented the very same wager, but he was having none of it. "It's Floody's Wager now!" he declared. So, here it is, Haworth's 3rd Way: Pascal's (aka. Floody's) Wager.

Pascal's Wager does not appeal to reason in the same way as the traditional proofs. Instead, Pascal simply argues that we should wager that God exists because it is the best bet. Pascal’s Wager runs as follows:

If you believe in God and God does exist, you will be rewarded with eternal life in heaven; thus an infinite gain.

If you do not believe in God and God does exist, you will be condemned to remain in hell forever; thus an infinite loss.

If you believe in God and God does not exist, you will not be rewarded; thus a finite loss.

If you do not believe in God and God does not exist, you will not be rewarded, but you have lived your own life; thus a finite gain.

Pascal’s Wager is an argument from probability; mathematically a finite gain or loss is negligible compared to an infinite gain or loss. In other words, to believe in God and God does not exist only leads to a finite (limited) loss. However, to believe that God does not exist risks an infinite loss. To believe that God does exist and God does exist, infinite gain is our reward. Therefore, it is a much better choice to believe in God rather than to practice atheism.

This argument is like a third way. For those who have not got the gift of faith and for those who do not trust an appeal to reason, the wager offers an alternative ladder to the knowledge of God. Of course, in a sense, it is a low ladder. However, as Peter Kreeft has written:

“If you believe in God only as a bet, that is certainly not a deep, mature, or adequate faith. But it is something, it is a start, it is enough to dam the tide of atheism. The Wager appeals not to a high ideal, like faith, hope, love, or proof, but to a low one: the instinct for self-preservation, the desire to be happy and not unhappy. But on that low natural level, it has tremendous force. Thus Pascal prefaces his argument with the words, "Let us now speak according to our natural lights."Pascal wrote: “a game is being played at the extremity of this infinite distance(death) where heads or tails will turn up. What will you wager?”

Pascal decisively shows up atheism as a foolish wager. But, that is not all. Pascal also shows that agnosticism is impossible. Many people maintain that a skeptical, uncommitted attitude is the most reasonable option when it comes to the existence of God. The agnostic insists that the best option is not to wager at all; “ignorance is bliss”, “I’ll find out when I die”. Pascal replies to the agnostic: “Yes; but you must wager. It is not optional. You are embarked (committed).” The reality is we are not outside observers of life, but participants. Peter Kreeft continues:

“We are like ships that need to get home, sailing past a port that has signs on it proclaiming that it is our true home and our true happiness. The ships are our own lives and the signs on the port say "God". The agnostic says he will neither put in at that port (believe) nor turn away from it (disbelieve) but stay anchored a reasonable distance away until the weather clears and he can see better whether this is the true port or a fake (for there are a lot of fakes around). Why is this attitude unreasonable, even impossible? Because we are moving. The ship of life is moving along the waters of time, and there comes a point of no return, when our fuel runs out, when it is too late.”

The Wager works because of the fact of death. The ship of life is moving forward and there will come a point of no return. We cannot remain implacable and undecided in the face of death. The weather will never clear enough for the agnostic navigator to be sure whether the port is true home or a fake. He has to take a chance on this port or some other, or he will never get home.

Every one of us must wager. Once it is decided that there are only two options (theism or atheism) and not three (theism or atheism or agnosticism) then the rest of the argument is simple. Atheism is a terrible bet. As Pascal writes:

“You have two things to lose, the true and the good; and two things to stake, your reason and your will, your knowledge and your happiness; and your nature has two things to shun, error and misery. Your reason is no more shocked in choosing one rather than the other, since you must of necessity choose. This is one point settled. But your happiness? Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.”

If God does not exist then it does not matter how you wager, for there is nothing to win and nothing to lose after death. But if God does exist, your only chance of winning eternal happiness is to believe and your only chance of losing it is to refuse to believe.

If you believe too much, you neither win nor lose eternal happiness. But if you believe too little, you risk losing everything.

But, is believing worth the price? What must be given up to wager that God exists? Whatever must be given up is only finite; personal independence perhaps, or illicit pleasures - but you gain infinite happiness and eternal joy. Furthermore, in this life, belief brings purpose, peace, hope and joy. Pascal concludes his argument with these words that underline the gravity with which he has presented his Wager:

“If this discourse pleases you and seems impressive, know that it is made by a man who has knelt, both before and after it, in prayer to that Being, infinite and without parts, before whom he lays all he has, for you also to lay before Him all you have for your own good and for His glory, that so strength may be given to lowliness.”

Many often object to the wager by claiming that they refuse to believe for the low motive of saving their own skin and avoiding eternal punishment. In response, we can simply change the motive. Peter Kreeft writes:

“Let us say we want to give God his due if there is a God. Now if there is a God, justice demands total faith, hope, love, obedience, and worship. If there is a God and we refuse to give him these things, we sin maximally against the truth. But the only chance of doing infinite justice is if God exists and we believe, while the only chance of doing infinite injustice is if God exists and we do not believe. If God does not exist, there is no one there to do infinite justice or infinite injustice to. So the motive of doing justice moves the Wager just as well as the motive of seeking happiness. Pascal used the more selfish motive because we all have that all the time, while only some are motivated by justice, and only some of the time.”

Pascal imagines the listener offering the practical objection that he just cannot bring himself to believe. In response, Pascal simply suggests some practical psychology:

“True...Endeavour then to convince yourself, not by increase of proofs of God...Learn of those who have been bound like you, and who now stake all their possessions...Follow the way by which they began; by acting as if they believed... Even this will naturally make you believe, and deaden your acuteness.”

In other words, behave just as if you do believe and belief will follow.

Pascal’s wager is a simple, practical argument that haunts the atheist with the abiding question, but can you be sure there is no God?

N T Wright: The Resurrection of the Body

N T Wright: The New Creation

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

More ad hoc apologetics: The Ontological Argument

Haworth's 10 Ways #2: The Ontological Argument

Will anyone ever be converted to Christ by the ontological argument? Probably never. But, having said that, it does make for a puzzlingly convincing proof for God's existence.

The ontological argument moves from the conception of a Perfect Being or Necessary Being to the existence of such a Being. The first philosopher to develop this form of argument was Anselm (1033 – 1109) who set it forth in his Proslogion (Discourse on the Existence of God). Simply put, Anselm argued from the idea of God to the existence of God. Hence, part of his argument went something like this (the following is an extract from the Proslogion):

“God cannot be conceived not to exist. --God is that, than which nothing greater can be conceived. --That which can be conceived not to exist is not God.

And it assuredly exists so truly, that it cannot be conceived not to exist. For, it is possible to conceive of a being which cannot be conceived not to exist; and this is greater than one which can be conceived not to exist. Hence, if that, than which nothing greater can be conceived, can be conceived not to exist, it is not that, than which nothing greater can be conceived. But this is an irreconcilable contradiction. There is, then, so truly a being than which nothing greater can be conceived to exist, that it cannot even be conceived not to exist; and this being you are, O Lord, our God.

So truly, therefore, do you exist, O Lord, my God, that you can not be conceived not to exist; and rightly. For, if a mind could conceive of a being better than you, the creature would rise above the Creator; and this is most absurd. And, indeed, whatever else there is, except you alone, can be conceived not to exist. To you alone, therefore, it belongs to exist more truly than all other beings, and hence in a higher degree than all others. For, whatever else exists does not exist so truly, and hence in a less degree it belongs to it to exist. Why, then, has the fool said in his heart, there is no God (Psalms xiv. 1), since it is so evident, to a rational mind, that you do exist in the highest degree of all? Why, except that he is dull and a fool?”

Major thinkers and philosophers since Anselm have come up with variations on the ontological argument. To this day, it remains both compelling and controversial. Essentially, the simple concept of God as an absolutely Perfect Being (“that, than which nothing greater can be conceived”) actually demands that he exist. Briefly put, the argument goes like this:

God is by definition an absolutely perfect being.
But existence is a perfection.
Therefore, God must exist.

If God did not exist, he would be lacking in one perfection, namely, existence. But if God lacked any perfection, then he would not be absolutely perfect. But God is by definition and absolutely perfect Being. Therefore an absolutely perfect Being (God) must exist.


Convincing? The jury's out.

Well Said Eugene #1

Prayer (I)

By George Herbert 1593–1633

Prayer the church's banquet, angel's age,
God's breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth;

Engine against th' Almighty, sinner's tow'r,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,

Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood,
The land of spices; something understood.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Haworth's 10 Ways #1: The Cosmological Argument (Part 2)

God not only caused the universe to come into being, he also causes the world to continue to be: “And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1.17). The second form of the cosmological argument is the “vertical argument”, which aims to demonstrate the continuing need for a creator. The most famous proponent of this argument was Thomas Aquinas (1225 – 1274). It aims to answer the question: “why is there something right now, rather than nothing?” It basically rolls out as follows:

Something is keeping us in existence right now so we don’t just disappear. Something not only caused the world to come into being but something causes it to continue to be. The world needs both an originating cause and a conserving cause. This can be demonstrated by the following argument:

b.) A Conserving Cause

1. Every part of the universe is dependant.
2. If every part is dependant, then the whole universe must be dependant.
3. Therefore, the whole universe is dependant for existence right now on some Independent Being.

It can be argued that the second premise is faulty. After all, who is to say the whole universe is dependant? The whole universe may have a characteristic quite different to that possessed by its parts. However, intuitively at least, we must say that there is a necessary connection between the parts and the whole. If every piece of a floor is a tile, then the floor is tile. If every part of the universe is dependant, the universe is a dependant entity. Being dependant is the nature of the universe.

One dependant being cannot sustain another dependant being. I cannot will you to continue to exist; you exist, or cease to exist, independently of my will. I cannot, by the sheer dint of my personal efforts, eradicate the fact of death in the world, or put a stop to the birth rate that persists day-by-day. Similarly, I am dependant on factors outside my control. There is an infinite array of factors and mechanisms I am not even aware of that are presently sustaining my very life. There is a fundamental dependency that defines life in this universe. We are dependant on factors and forces that we are powerless to stop or influence. The same goes for every life-form on the face of the earth. There are factors that inevitably support life and factors which immediately cause death, irrespective of our perceived ability to be independent of circumstances around us. We are dependant beings. If we, and indeed every part of the universe is dependant (whether dependant on life-supporting factors (for example, oxygen) or basic physical laws (for example, gravity or very precise molecular and atomic make-up), it follows that the whole universe (being the sum of its parts) is dependant on some Independent Being for its existence right now.

Ultimately, the whole universe cannot be greater than its parts; if the contingent (dependant) parts which make up the universe as a whole were to vanish then the whole universe would vanish. Evidently then, the whole universe is basically dependant. This coheres with the Biblical witness found in Paul’s letter to the Colossians. In God all things hold together and have their being; “And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1.17). The universe is dependant on its existence, moment by moment, on the God who created it from nothing in the beginning.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Jesus Of Nazareth Is The Only Hope For Any Person

Jesus of Nazareth is the only hope for any person

"Hopelessnes is hell - literally. As God made us to fulfil a function and attain an end (for 'man's chief end is to glorify God, and enjoy him forever'), so he made us creatures for whom hope is life, and whose lives become living deaths when we have nothing good to look forward to. As the deep hopelessness of pose-Christian western culture tightens its chilly grip on us, we are made to feel this increasingly, and so can better appreciate the infinite value of life today of that exuberant, unstoppable, intoxicating, energizing hope of joy with Jesus in the Father's presence for ever which is so pervasive a mark of New Testament Christianity.

Whereas those without Christ are without God and without hope, living already in a dusk of the spirit that is destined to grow darker and colder, Christians are in the sunshine, endlessly rejoicing in 'Christ Jesus our hope'. The inescapable alternatives are false hope (Marxism? spiritism? happiness through having things? endless good health? - false hopes, every one), or else no hope (total pessimism, inviting suicide), or else Christian hope, the electrifying knowledge of 'Christ in you, the hope of glory'. It is a pity that so little is heard these days about what has been called 'the unknown world with its well-known inhabitant' to which the New Testament teaches Christians to look forward; for, as the hymn says: 'The Lamb is all the glory of Emmanuel's land,' and declaring that glory is part of what it means to relate the New Testament witness to the person of Jesus Christ."

- J. I. Packer, "Jesus Christ is Lord" in The J.I Packer Collection, ed. Alister E. McGrath

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Limits of Apologetics

A Comment From the Mountainous Commentary Back-Log of This Blog: A Helpful Insight Into the Limits of Rational Argument

Below is a very helpful comment left by an astute reader of the post, "Haworth 10 Ways #1: The Cosmological Argument". In pithy, clear terms this comment states the conumdrum with which we set out: logic and reason, in and of themselves and unaided by divine revelation, can lead us to a god who is a conceptual idol and not the living God of Scripture. God is the Triune God who has revealed himself in the acts recorded in the Bible and the words recorded there which interpet these acts for us. This God is so different to the god who is merely the "cause" of the universe.

But, of course, (and I never thought of this as I am more-or-less philosophically illiterate) the concept of causality we begin with will dictate the god we end up positing as the creator of the universe. See the inventory below: Aristotle, Plato, Hume, Kant, Hegel, Marx, Aquinas...Hinduism - each begin with a different conception of causality which inevitably moulds their conception of deity in radical ways. None of the definitions of God these philsophers/theologian/elephantine religious culture offer is a conception that accurately squares with, or reflects fully, the God revealed in the Book of Scripture. This, as noted below, is not surprising: in each case, a particular conception of causality moulds a particular conception of deity. For example, for Marx, causality is the strictly physical motion among material bodies. This conception of causality is purely materialist; God, therefore, is a mere figment of the human imagination.

We must recognise that even the most sophisticated emloyment of reason and logic will only in the end demonstrate the reasonableness of belief as opposed to the reality of the Triune God. However, to demonstrate the reasonableness of belief in God does perhaps go some way to open the mind of the unbeliever. Apologetics and rational argument, in that sense, are very much preliminaries; challenging the mind-set of scepticism in a bid to prepare the ground for a more open-minded hearing of the gospel.

Read on...

Hi Jeremy,

I think that the cosmological argument (and the other traditional proofs) are an encouragement to the faith of believers. But if the syllogism looks something like this:

If there is causality, God exists
There is causality
Therefore, God exists

then an unbeliever is already starting with an idea of "God" that is something other than the Triune God of Scripture, and therefore, his or her definition of "causality" will be different, too. Consider what the following people believed about "God":

Aristotle: "impersonal, unmoved mover" or "thought thinking itself"
Plato: "demiurge who made the world according to metaphysically ultimate forms"
Hume: "unprovable hypothesis"
Kant: "hypothetical and rationally unknown lawgiver"
Hegel: "combination of temporal and eternal reality in process"
Marx: "figment of the human imagination"
Hinudism: "sum total of reality"
Aquinas: "first cause or unmoved mover"

In light of those definitions, it should not be surprising what those men believed about causality:

Aristotle: "impersonal principle of explanation"
Plato: "principle which yields opinion and not knowledge"
Hume: "mental habit"
Kant: "constitutive synthetic a priori category of the understanding"
Hegel: "provisional category in the development of the Absolute"
Marx: "strictly physical interaction among material bodies"
Hinduism: "illusion"
Aquinas: "principle that objects move when acted upon by another"

I would think that the Christian theist would want to say that "God" is the Triune God who has revealed himself in redemptive deeds in history and interpretive words in the Bible. Therefore, "causality" is the providential outworking of His eternal decree.But you'll notice in the video in the next post, that the gentleman from Western Michigan doesn't have a category for God being the cause of the universe. He wants some sort of natural explanation precisely because he is starting with a something like a Marxian definition of "God." I don't even think William Lane Craig would be comfortable with the definition of causality I've given above. But that is because he is starting with some "divine" attributes that he wants to start with, not taking into account the totality of what God has revealed about himself.

Hmm. Well said.



Thursday, March 10, 2011

Cosmological Argument

Haworth's 10 Ways #1: The Cosmological Argument (Part I)

The best known arguments for God’s existence are the cosmological argument, the teleological argument and the ontological argument. Respectively, these are the arguments from creation (from the Greek word, cosmos meaning “universe” or “world”), the idea of perfect being (ontos, meaning “reality” or “being”) and the apparent design of the universe (telos, meaning “end” or “purpose”).

Haworth's 10 Ways #1: The Cosmological Argument

There is a something rather than nothing. That is, there is a universe rather than nothing at all. This universe must have been caused by something beyond itself. The law of causality says that every finite thing is caused by something other than itself. In other words, nothing comes from nothing. Only what exists can cause existence, since the very concept of “cause” implies that some existing thing has the power to have an effect on another. From absolutely nothing comes absolutely nothing. This can be stated another way: if there were ever absolutely nothing (including God), then there would always be absolutely nothing (including God.) Everything that comes to be has a cause.

So, given that the universe exists (and this is undeniable) on the basis of a cause, the existence of God can be demonstrated as being the cause of the universe. There are two basic forms of this argument. The first is the kalam cosmological argument (the “horizontal argument”), which argues in a linear fashion back to the beginning of time. It was first formulated by Arab philosophers in the middle ages. It rolls out as follows:

a.) A Cause at the Beginning: The universe had a beginning. Anything that had a beginning must have been caused by something else. Therefore the universe was caused by something else (a Creator).

Once you have stated this simple argument, you can go on to support it on the basis of an appeal to scientific evidence. For example, according to the second law of thermodynamics, in a closed, isolated system such as the universe, the amount of usable energy is decreasing. The universe is running down and therefore it cannot be eternal. The widely accepted Big Bang Theory offers major support for this argument. According to this view, the universe exploded into being roughly 15-20 billion years ago. Evidence offered for the Big Bang includes the 1) “red shift” or Doppler effect noticed in the light from stars as they rapidly move away from on another (this movement being caused by an explosion of unthinkable force); 2) the radiation echo from space, which has the same wavelength that would be given off by a gigantic cosmic explosion; 3) discovery of a mass of energy such as would be expected from an initial, cosmic explosion.

Obviously, science cannot offer an explanation for such a cosmic explosion. The scientific pursuit is limited within the bounds of the material universe; it cannot stretch beyond the moment of creation. However, if the universe did come into being at a fixed point in time (as science does demonstrate) then it is very reasonable to conclude that there was a Creator who brought it into being. Thus, basic scientific evidence, as well as intuitive logic, provides compelling evidence for the Biblical witness: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1.1). The universe as a whole does not explain its own existence; as such, it calls for an explanation beyond itself. The most reasonable answer it that there was a first, self-sufficient (independent) cause of the whole universe. That cause is God, who created all things out of nothing.

There is also philosophical evidence that backs up this argument. Time cannot go back into the past forever, because it is actually impossible to pass through an infinite number of moments. If there truly are an infinite number of moments then we would never be able to locate a fixed point of beginning. It is impossible to locate the starting point of infinity; it stretches back in time forever. Furthermore, we have just demonstrated (on the basis of an appeal to science) that the universe did indeed begin at a fixed point in time. As such, there cannot be an infinite number of moments. Time must have had a beginning. If the world never had a beginning, then we could not have reached now. But, we have reached now so time must have begun at a particular point and proceeded to today. Therefore, the world is a finite event after all and needs a cause for its beginning.

This argument can be summarised:

1. An infinite number of moments cannot be traversed.
2. If an infinite number of moments had to elapse before today, then today would never come.
3. But today has come.
4. Therefore, an infinite number of moments have not elapsed before today (the universe had a beginning).
5. But whatever had a beginning is caused by something else.
6. Hence: there muse be a Cause (Creator) of the universe.

...But that is not all: God not only caused the universe to come into being, he also causes the world to continue to be: “And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1.17). The second form of the cosmological argument is the “vertical argument”, which aims to demonstrate the continuing need for a creator. The most famous proponent of this argument was Thomas Aquinas (1225 – 1274). It aims to answer the question: “why is there something right now, rather than nothing?” Tune in for the next post in which we will look at this form of the cosmological argument.

3D Cosmological Argument

Ad Hoc Apologetics: Haworth's 10 Ways

Haworth’s 10 Ways: (Roughly) 10 Arguments for the Existence of God

This following series of brief posts will purport to examine (roughly) 10 proofs for the existence of God. In imitation of Aquinas’ magisterial 5 Ways, I am advocating an ad hoc 10 Ways. Overall, I think Haworth’s 10 Ways contains seven fairly strong arguments and three that are arguably quite weak. Each Way (or proof) is simply a ‘snap-shot’ image of a much wider and labyrinthine argument, elaborated at one time or another over the course of last two millennia – whether that be the early ‘cosmological argument’ of Paul in Acts 17, the 5 Ways articulated by Aquinas in his Summa or the recent innovations of Alvin Plantinga, a living Christian philosopher. Haworth’s 10 Ways are therefore intended as mere tools, bite-size proofs that can be used in a kind of scatter-bomb way as one discusses the existence of God over a pint.

Arguably (this is not a question resolvable in the space of this short post), reason can never prove the existence of the living God outright. Many believe any given argument, no matter how effective, ultimately only presents a conceptual cipher or a mental idol. In other words, arguments of the kind to follow can conjur the so-called "god of the philosophers" but not the "God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob”.

Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) was a remarkable philosopher, mathematician and physicist who lived during the seventeenth century in France. In 1654, at the age of thirty-one, Pascal underwent an incredible conversion experience. He recorded it on a piece of parchment that was found sewn into his clothing after his death. It appears that he carried it with him at all times. It reads as follows:

Year of Grace 1654

Monday 23 November, feast of St. Clement, Pope and Martyr, and others in the Martyrology.

Eve of St. Chrysogonus, martyr and others.

From about half past ten at night to about half an hour after midnight,

FIRE

“God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob” (Exodus 3:6), not of philosophers and scholars.

Certitude, heartfelt joy, peace.

God of Jesus Christ.

God of Jesus Christ.

“My God and Your God” (John 20:17).

“Your God shall be my God” (Ruth 1:16).

The world forgotten, everything except God.

He can only be found by the ways that have been taught in the Gospels.

Greatness of the human soul.

“O righteous Father, the world has not known You, but I have known You” (John 17:25).

Joy, Joy, Joy, tears of joy.

I have separated myself from him.

“They have forsaken me, the spring of living water” (Jeremiah 2:13).

“My God, will you leave me?” (cf. Matthew 27:46).

Let me not be cut off from him for ever!

“Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3).

Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ.

I am separated from him; for I have shunned him, denied him, crucified him.

May I never be separated from him.

He can only be kept by the ways taught in the gospel.

Complete and sweet renunciation.

Total submission to Jesus Christ and to my director.

Everlasting joy in return for one’s day’s striving upon earth.

“I will not neglect your Word” (Psalm 119:16). Amen.

As an outstanding religious thinker, Pascal had painstakingly examined and developed the conceptual arguments for the existence of God. However, it was only with his conversion experience at the age of thirty-one, that his mind blazed with the burning conviction of being consumed by the fire of God’s immediate presence. He calls the all-consuming presence the "“God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob” (Exodus 3:6), not of philosophers and scholars”. The God Pascal encountered was the One whom the concepts and argumentation of philosophy completely failed to grasp. In the presence of such a God, Pascal cries “Joy, Joy, Joy, tears of joy.”

Pascal had stood before God’s presence and the reality of God himself. In the aftermath, he would never again identify the living, Personal-Infinite God with philosophical concepts and clever argumentation. “The world forgotten, everything except God...He can only be found by the ways that have been taught in the Gospels.”

As Martin Lloyd-Jones (1899-1981) once remarked (when asked why he never debated God’s existence in public):

“…God is not to be discussed and debated. God is not a subject for debate, because He is Who He is and What He is. We are told that the unbeliever, of course, does not agree with that; and that is perfectly true; but that makes no difference. We believe it, and it is part of our very case to assert it. Holding the view that we do, believing what we do about God, we cannot in any circumstances allow Him to become a subject for discussion or of debate or investigation. I base my argument at this point on the word addressed by God Himself to Moses at the burning bush (Exod. 3:1-6). Moses had suddenly seen this remarkable phenomenon of the burning bush, and was proposing to turn aside and examine this astonishing phenomenon. But, immediately, he is rebuked by the voice which came to him saying, ‘Draw no nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.’ That seems to me to be the governing principle in this whole matter. Our attitude is more important than anything we do in detail, and as we are reminded in the Epistle to the Hebrews, God is always to be approached ‘with reverence and with godly fear: for our God is a consuming fire’ (Heb. 12:28 and 29)…To me this is a very vital matter. To discuss the being of God in a casual manner, lounging in an armchair, smoking a pipe or a cigarette or a cigar, is to me something that we should never allow, because God, as I say, is not a philosophic X or a concept. We believe in the almighty, the glorious, the living God; and whatever may be true of others we must never put ourselves, or allow ourselves to be put, into a position in which we are debating about God as if he were but a philosophical proposition. To me this is an overriding consideration which is enough in and of itself...”

As Martyn Lloyd-Jones makes clear, God is no mere philosophical concept. He is the living God of Moses. As such, when we speak to others about this God, contending for his existence and supremacy, we ought to remain aware that we are not speaking about a neutral philosophical X. Although Martyn Lloyd-Jones is speaking here mainly to full-time preachers, his words apply as much to those of us seeking to share the gospel with our peers in day-to-day life. In a sense, as soon as we open our mouths to speak about God and share the gospel, we are preaching. We are speaking of truth and a “theology on fire”. The God we serve “is a consuming fire” who can not be reduced to neat philosophical propositions.

Nonetheless, (and perhaps in opposition to what Martyn Lloyd-Jones is arguing for above) philosophical proofs can be useful and helpful aids that can help demonstrate the reasonableness of belief in God. Haworth’s 10 Ways comprise a humble effort to enable us to do just that.


Signing Off -

The Scribbling Apprentice

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Vos, Covenant Theology and the Apocalyptic Bloggage to Come

Keeping with the overall feel of this blog, the following is another post seemingly cropping up out of nowhere after a long silence and full of material somewhat unconnected to the previous series of postings. The last months have witnessed a very busy period ministry-wise (hence the long silence). Alongside that is the M.Th reading that is grabbing my attention. Which, incidentally, brings me to the content of this post. Not unconnected with the current reading I have to do for the M.Th is the topic of Covenant Theology.

Chris Caughey is a Ph.d student at Trinity College, who writes and blogs on Church history and Reformed theology. His blog can be accessed here:

http://faculty.jessupblogs.com/ccaughey/

Chris has also written a book on Covenant Theology - which we are lucky enough to house in our resident ICM library. Chris attends Immanuel during his stints here in Dublin at Trinity (he hails from California and lives there most of the year round). He recently invited me to explore the excitying realm of Covenant and biblical theology, starting with Gerhard Vos' The Idea of Biblical Theology as a Science and as a Theological Discipline. So, in getting to grips somewhat with Vos, I have been skimming some very simple introductions to the topic of Covenant Theology. The definition below is a good start.

My current M.Th assignment (examining the concept of revelation mediated through Biblical narrative) has me reading a stirring book by Gabriel Fackre. I am planning to post up a segment or two of his book, The Doctrine of Revelation: A Narrative Account. Fackre views a bevvy of Twentieth Century Heavyweights (Barth, Tillich, Rahner, Pannenberg, Henry) and their contributions to the doctrine of revelation via. the lens of Biblical narrative and the crucial covenants initiated by God within the sweep of the Biblical narrative. Once again, the topic of Covenant and covenantal theology looms large here.

Over the next week(s), some more ad hoc posts will appear replete with some ad hoc apologetics (in lieu of that promised Leon Morris themed post looking at the cross) and some segments from Eugene Peterson's beaut of a read, 'Eat This Book' (on how to be a reading contemplative in the blur and crush of daily life.)

Until then, here's Ligon Duncan below on the topic of Covenant Theology -

Yours,

The Scribbling Apprentice


WHAT IS COVENANT THEOLOGY? (J. Ligon Duncan)

"Covenant theology is the Gospel set in the context of God’s eternal plan of communion with his people, and its historical outworking in the covenants of works and grace (as well as in the various progressive stages of the covenant of grace). Covenant theology explains the meaning of the death of Christ in light of the fullness of the biblical teaching on the divine covenants, undergirds our understanding of the nature and use of the sacraments, and provides the fullest possible explanation of the grounds of our assurance.

To put it another way, Covenant theology is the Bible’s way of explaining and deepening our understanding of: (1) the atonement [the meaning of the death of Christ]; (2) assurance [the basis of our confidence of communion with God and enjoyment of his promises]; (3) the sacraments [signs and seals of God’s covenant promises — what they are and how they work]; and (4) the continuity of redemptive history [the unified plan of God’s salvation]. Covenant theology is also an hermeneutic, an approach to understanding the Scripture — an approach that attempts to biblically explain the unity of biblical revelation.

When Jesus wanted to explain the significance of His death to His disciples, He went to the doctrine of the covenants (see Matthew 26, Mark 14, Luke 22, 1 Corinthians 11). When God wanted to assure Abraham of the certainty of His word of promise, He went to the covenant (Genesis 12, 15, and 17). When God wanted to set apart His people, ingrain His work in their minds, tangibly reveal Himself in love and mercy, and confirm their future inheritance, He gave the covenant signs (Genesis 17, Exodus 12, 17, and 31, Matthew 28, Acts 2, Luke 22). When Luke wanted to show early Christians that Jesus’ life and ministry were the fulfillment of God’s ancient purposes for His chosen people, he went to the covenants and quoted Zacharias’ prophecy which shows that believers in the very earliest days of ‘the Jesus movement’ understood Jesus and His messianic work as a fulfillment (not a ‘Plan B’) of God’s covenant with Abraham (Luke 1:72-73). When the Psalmist and the author of Hebrews want to show how God’s redemptive plan is ordered and on what basis it unfolds in history, they went to the covenants (see Psalm 78, 89, Hebrews 6-10).

Covenant theology is not a response to dispensationalism. It existed long before the rudiments of classical dispensationalism were brought together in the nineteenth century. Covenant theology is not an excuse for baptizing children, nor merely a convention to justify a particular approach to the sacraments (modern paedocommunionism and baptismal regenerationism). Covenant theology is not sectarian, but an ecumenical Reformed approach to understanding the Bible, developed in the wake of the magisterial Reformation, but with roots stretching back to the earliest days of catholic Christianity and historically appreciated in all the various branches of the Reformed community (Baptist, Congregationalist, Independent, Presbyterian, Anglican, and Reformed). Covenant theology cannot be reduced to serving merely as the justification for some particular view of children in the covenant (covenant successionism), or for a certain kind of eschatology, or for a specific philosophy of education (whether it be homeschooling or Christian schools or classical schools). Covenant theology is bigger than that. It is more important than that.

“The doctrine of the covenant lies at the root of all true theology. It has been said that he who well understands the distinction between the covenant of works and the covenant of grace, is a master of divinity. I am persuaded that most of the mistakes which men make concerning the doctrines of Scripture, are based upon fundamental errors with regard to the covenant of law and of grace. May God grant us now the power to instruct, and you the grace to receive instruction on this vital subject.” Who said this? C.H. Spurgeon — the great English Baptist preacher! Certainly a man beyond our suspicion of secretly purveying a Presbyterian view of the sacraments to the unsuspecting evangelical masses.

Covenant theology flows from the trinitarian life and work of God. God’s covenant communion with us is modeled on and a reflection of the intra-trinitarian relationships. The shared life, the fellowship of the persons of the Holy Trinity, what theologians call perichoresis or circumincessio, is the archetype of the relationship the gracious covenant God shares with His elect and redeemed people. God’s commitments in the eternal covenant of redemptive find space-time realization in the covenant of grace."