Book Write-Up: Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview

J.P. Moreland and William Lane Craig.  Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview.  IVP Academic, 2003.  See here to purchase the book.

J.P. Moreland and William Lane Craig are reputable philosophers and apologists.  This book, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, covers a variety of philosophical issues and views and discusses how they can relate to a Christian worldview.

The book is 626 pages and has 31 chapters, along with “Suggestions for Further Reading” concerning each chapter.  I will not comment on all 31 chapters, but I will say something about each “Part,” as the book is organized into six Parts.  Then, I will offer some general impressions about the book.

Part I defines philosophy, justifies it from a Christian perspective, and sets forth rules of logic (in which you use letters and symbols to represent arguments).  My favorite passage in this Part is when Moreland and Craig respond to a Christian argument that human reason is corrupt as a result of the Fall, and thus philosophy is useless.  Moreland and Craig note that the Bible employs reason and logic, even when speaking to the sinful and unregenerate.

Part II concerns epistemology: can we know anything, and how do we know what we know?  It critiques skepticism and postmodernism, while also discussing Alvin Plantinga’s view that naturalism should logically lead to skepticism.  It discusses justification: are internal criteria (i.e., our senses, our minds) sufficient for us to say that we know something (i.e., that the ball is red), or are criteria external to us (i.e., we see a red ball because red light bounces off of the ball) essential?  This Part also explores religious epistemology: do we know that certain religious claims are true, and, if so, how?  The exploration of religious epistemology largely covers Alvin Plantinga’s work.

Some things stood out to me in this Part.  First, the authors said that skepticism and postmodernism are self-refuting because they make the truth claim that accurate truth claims are impossible.  I rolled my eyes at this, expecting that to be their sole attempt to refute skepticism and postmodernism, but I was wrong.  They justify this argument, addressing the counterargument that we should make an exception for the skeptical truth claim.  They also interacted with arguments for skepticism.  Second, the authors quoted a passage in which Charles Darwin expressed a fear that evolutionary naturalism challenges epistemology.  In a July 3, 1881 letter to William Graham Down, Darwin stated: “With me the horrid doubt always arises whether the conviction of man’s mind, which has been developed from the mind of lower animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy.  Would anyone trust in the convictions of a monkey’s mind, if there are any convictions in such a mind?”  Third, in discussing Plantinga’s argument that naturalism can lead to skepticism about evolutionary theory, I saw that Plantinga employed a few bizarre hypotheticals (i.e., suppose you have an animal that feels pleasure when it is attacked).  Craig and Moreland themselves occasionally use bizarre hypotheticals.  It’s probably something that philosophers do.  It still strikes me as bizarre.

Part III is about metaphysics.  One chapter spent a lot of time on the different kinds of nominalism as they relate to the color red: can we say that there is a general category of red, or should we reject the concept of general categories because each object is unique?  In reading this, I wanted to throw up my hands and say, “Look, there are objects that have different shades of red!  Why does this have to be so difficult?”  This Part also discussed the mind-body problem: the question of whether humans have souls or just physical brains.  On page 300, Moreland and Craig state: “Just because computers can imitate intelligence, or because we continue to learn more about the brain and its interaction with the soul, it does not follow that there is no soul and no enduring self.”  I think these things should be taken very seriously, though, since they relate to the question of whether the mind can be attributed to the brain, and whether the brain can produce free thoughts (contrary to determinism, which Moreland and Craig believe materialism entails).  Another topic that this Part covered was “Free Will and Determinism.”  My understanding is that Moreland and Craig support libertarianism, the idea that humans have free will and are the authors of their choices.  Yet, they are fair to compatibilism (the idea that choices are caused) and wrestle with its arguments.  Do they present a libertarianism that acknowledges that certain factors influence our choices?  Maybe, but I do not clearly recall their presentation of it.

Part IV concerns philosophy of science.  I would like to make five points about this Part.  First, Moreland and Craig provide an effective section about the different conceptualizations of “laws” and “theories.”  As Moreland and Craig point out, most scientists reject the idea that theories are mere guesses, which become laws after being proven.  This section was informative.  Second, there were places in which I thought that Moreland and Craig were flirting with creationism, anti-evolutionism, and Flood Geology, but I could be wrong on this.  They may have just been using examples of arguments that they deemed relevant to the discussion: they also cited as relevant the view that nature has flawed design and thus probably was not designed.  Third, Moreland and Craig showed how empiricism and realism can run contrary to each other.  This can initially appear counter-intuitive, since do not both acknowledge the existence of an outside world and hold that we can arrive at fairly accurate knowledge about it?  Actually, because empiricism focuses solely on what we can see, that leaves out a lot of knowledge!  Fourth, I appreciated the authors’ engagement of anti-realist arguments.  On page 334, for example, Moreland and Craig refer to an anti-realist observation that “In the history of science, many theories have explained phenomena, generated fruitful research and accurate predictions, yet were later abandoned as false.”  Fifth, the authors discuss the role of Newton’s theology in some of his scientific conclusions, and how Einstein would later disagree with Newton.  That actually came out in the first episode of the National Geographic TV series, Genius!

Part V was about ethics.  Is there an objective foundation for ethics?  Are ethics relative or absolute?  Here, I think that the authors made a special effort to convey how the other side (from their standpoint) would respond to criticisms.  There were times in reading this book when I wondered if the authors’ presentation of a perspective was complete, if an actual adherent to the perspective would accept the authors’ conceptualization of their viewpoint, or if an adherent would be able to respond to the authors’ easy knock-down punch of their ideas.  In short, would the adherents say “Wait a minute!” after reading the authors’ presentation of their position?  There was a little more back and forth in the section on utilitarianism (though, of course, Moreland and Craig are the ones summarizing the different perspectives).

I am ambivalent about some of the authors’ arguments in this Part.  Against utilitarianism’s claim that we should do what maximizes our pleasure and minimizes our pain, Moreland and Craig ask about those who find immoral acts pleasurable.  Moreland and Craig also robustly argue that egoism by itself cannot be a foundation for ethics: it can be part of the equation, but it cannot uphold ethics on its own.  Maybe they have a point here, but I wonder: Is it too much of a stretch for me to go from saying that I want good things for myself, to saying that I should want good things for others, too, since the other is just as valuable as I am?  Moreland and Craig dispute utilitarianism’s claim that we should define ethics according to what is the greatest good for the greatest number by saying that we do not always know the long-term effects of certain actions, and whether those effects are good or bad.  Perhaps, but should consequences be considered irrelevant in defining an action as moral or immoral?  If we see that an action consistently makes people miserable, should we hold out hope that eventually it might have a positive effect, or can we arrive at a fairly safe conclusion that there may be something wrong with the action?  Moreland and Craig appeal a couple of times to the value of moral intuition, and yet, in arguing against relativism, they note cultures that have a different morality.  If we all have a reliable moral intuition, then how do we account for the cultures that have practices that are morally offensive, from a number of people’s standpoints?  Finally, Moreland and Craig are trying to argue that God needs to exist for there to be a foundation for objective morality.  I question how much the existence of God actually solves.  Granted, you have God, and God enforces morality, which comes from God’s character.  But we still have to figure out what God wants.  We have our own conceptions of God.  And there are passages in the Bible that many today find morally offensive.  Moreland and Craig undoubtedly would have their responses to these concerns: they believe that there is apologetic evidence for the biblical God, and they would have their explanations for the morally offensive passages of Scripture.  Still, I wonder: does believing in God result in an understanding of objective moral values, when there is still a lot of subjectivity in the world?  In areas, perhaps.

Part VI covers such topics as arguments for the existence of God, God’s attributes, the problem of evil, the Trinity, the relationship between Jesus’ divine and human natures at the incarnation, and Christian exclusivism.  I have some points.  First, the coverage of the cosmological and teleological arguments for the existence of God was effective.  Moreland and Craig argued that some of the models upheld by critics of these arguments themselves presume that the universe does not go back infinitely, or have some assumption of fine-tuning.  Moreland and Craig seem to consider the ontological argument to be a good argument, even though I still look at it and think, “What the heck?”  Second, Moreland and Craig were unafraid to think outside the box, and that is commendable.  They believe that God has existed in time ever since creating the universe, as opposed to being outside of time.  They also offer a rehabilitation of Apollinaris (whom has been considered a heretic) that they believe remains within orthodoxy: that Jesus can still be fully human when his mind is the divine logos, since humans are made in God’s image.  This is brilliant, but they did not offer a robust answer to the question of how Jesus’ mind can be the divine logos, and yet Jesus can still be tempted to sin, or can be afraid.  They tried to address this question, but they failed, in my opinion.  Third, I liked their argument in their discussion of the problem of evil that there are many good things in the world, that many of us, notwithstanding our suffering, consider life to be worth living.  Fourth, I did not care for their defense of Christian exclusivism.  They say that God loves everyone and wants everyone to be saved, and yet that God put those whom he knew would not believe in contexts in which they would never hear the Gospel.  Couldn’t God at least offer them an actual opportunity, if God loved them so much?

In terms of general assessments, this book is helpful in terms of the background information that it provides.  The back cover calls it an “introduction” to philosophy.  I am not sure if I would have understood it as well as I did had I not had previous exposure to the philosophical concepts in the book.  And, even then, there were parts that were over my head.  For me, the book put pieces of what I knew in context, while also exposing me to additional nuances and shades of thought.  The authors try to be lucid and in many cases succeed: I could understand the broad thrust of what they were saying, even if some of the details escaped me.  They also used examples and illustrations, which could be helpful.  Maybe a person with no exposure to philosophy could get something out of this book: he or she may have to read it slowly, though!

That said, I give the book five stars because it was informative and wrestled with different positions.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.  My review is honest!

Book Write-Up: The Tao Te Ching

I recently read the Tao Te Ching.  The version that I read was Dr. Wayne W. Dyer’s Living the Wisdom of the Tao: The Complete Tao Te Ching and Affirmations. Dyer draws from a variety of English translations.

The book is like a daily devotional.  You read a verse of the Tao Te Ching on one side of the page, and Dyer offers a take-home application point on the other side.  I decided to read this version because I expected the Tao Te Ching to be very abstruse and complicated, so I figured that it would help me if someone provided a concise take-home point, and Dyer seemed well-read on Taoism.

In this post, I will talk about my exposure to Taoism prior to reading this book, then I will list some of my reactions to the Tao Te Ching.

I first learned about the Tao Te Ching in college.  I was a Christian fundamentalist at the time, and a fellow student wanted to enlighten me about another religion, namely Taoism.  I was not as backward as he thought, though, since I was asking him questions about Taoism, and I observed common ground between Taoism and Christianity.  The theme of the Tao Te Ching that he emphasized was that of observing the natural order and gaining wisdom from that.  He said that he read the Bible and it never made a connection with him, but the Tao Te Ching made a connection.  When I asked him what a particular line of the first verse of the Tao Te Ching meant, he responded that he thought about that, and he shared with me his conclusion.  That reminded me of how Christians read and meditate on verses in the Bible.

My second exposure to Taoism was in a college philosophy class.  We were reading Lao-zu, and some of the students in the class were baffled.  Some thought that the reading was rambling.  Another student believed that it addressed an obvious and unnecessary question: Would you prefer a long life without fear or pain, or a short life with fear or pain?  “Of course I would prefer a long life without fear or pain!”, he said.  “A better dilemma would be whether you would choose a long life with fear or pain, or a short life without it!”  The question in the reading indeed looked obvious, and yet it reflects central themes of Taoism: going with the flow, not stressing out, and partaking of a lifestyle that can lengthen life and lessen pain, even if that lifestyle may look counter-intuitive to possessive, accumulating people like us.  The readings also shared a scenario of what one can do when one is experiencing illness and death: simply take a step back and say, “This looks interesting!”

My third exposure to Taoism was during my first year of divinity school.  One of my roommates had a copy of Benjamin Hoff’s The Tao of Pooh.  Another roommate shared that he struggled to read the Tao Te Ching, so he fell back on The Tao of Pooh.  I borrowed The Tao of Pooh out of curiosity.  I wondered if Christianity was a better religion than Taoism, or if there were overlapping themes between Taoism and Christianity.  Hoff in the book treats Winnie the Pooh as a Taoist.  Whereas Tigger is high energy, Eyore complains, and Rabbit intensely calculates, Pooh just is.  Pooh is relaxed and has no pretense, and things usually fall into place when he is the protagonist.

This background equipped me to read the Tao Te Ching, without being utterly confused by what I was reading.  At least it provided me with an idea of some of Taoism’s basic beliefs.  Some passages still perplexed me, though, and I am sure that there are still gaps in my understanding.

That said, here are some of my reactions to the Tao Te Ching:

A.  According to the Tao Te Ching, where was the Tao, and the material world is a manifestation of the Tao.  That made me wonder if Taoism is panentheistic or pantheistic.  In reading the Tao Te Ching, I was reminded of Proverbs 8, which presents wisdom as a key figure in God’s creation of all things; wisdom, in a sense, is like the Tao: both are orderly, both bring shalom, both are moral, both relate to the natural order, etc.  The Tao Te Ching does not explicitly say that the Tao created the cosmos, however, but rather that the cosmos came from the Tao.  That could be consistent with emanationism: the idea that the cosmos is an emanation from God, rather than God’s creation.

B.  In reading the Tao Te Ching, I had “problem of evil” questions.  If Taoism regards the natural order as good, I inquired, how would it account for the apparent evils of nature: animal violence, sickness, earthquakes, hurricanes, etc.?  On one occasion, the Tao Te Ching seemed to regard vicious elements of nature (i.e., storms) as a brief gliche, as if the overall tone of the cosmos is one of peace and order and the violent elements are mere interruptions.  On another occasion, it said that humans interfere with the Tao and bring havoc as a result.  The Tao Te Ching has a clear answer for why there is human evil: humans disregard the Tao, with its path of peace, virtue, generosity, and humility, and they choose greed, violence, pride, and stress instead.  It was a little more obscure in accounting for natural evil.

C.  That said, there was an indication that people who are especially in touch with the Tao can manipulate nature.  Verse 50 says that, with respect to such a person, “tigers and bulls keep clear[,] weapons turn from him on the battlefield, rhinoceroses have no place to horn him, tigers find no place for claws, and soldiers have no place to thrust their blades.”  Dyer’s take-home application point is that “I am an immortal spiritual being having a temporary human experience.”  He may be interpreting this passage to mean that, when we do not fear death, we are invulnerable to threats: even if a tiger mangles us to death, so what?  We live forever anyway!  Indeed, eternal life and not being afraid of death are significant themes in the Tao Te Ching.  But, in my mind, verse 50 seemed to be saying more than that: that people can be so in touch with the Tao, that nothing in this life can hurt them.  They can be bullet-proof!  I thought of different things in reading this verse: the movie The Matrix (with the invulnerable Neo), the Star Trek episode “Spectre of the Gun” (bullets went right through the Enterprise crew at the OK Corral!), Psalm 91’s affirmation that God will preserve God’s people from destruction and pestilence, and a statement I once heard from a pastor that, when you serve God, all of creation will serve you.

D.  The Tao Te Ching exhorts people to look within.  A number of conservative Christians recoil from such advice.  Look within?  Does not the author know that the human heart is deceitful and desperately wicked (Jeremiah 17:9), that from it proceed all manners of sinful propensities and actions (Mark 7:21-23)?  Maybe, but the Bible also says that humans are made in God’s image (Genesis 1:27), and that the requirements of God’s law are written on people’s hearts and in their consciences (Romans 2:15).  In light of that, should we treat looking within as an utterly fruitless exercise?  In any case, in reading the Tao Te Ching’s exhortations to look within, I thought of the Hellenistic distinction between the logos within and the logos without: there is an order to the universe, but there is also an order inside of us that coincides with the order in the universe.

E.  Related to (D.), verse 67 has a puzzling statement: “The Tao is not something found at the marketplace or passed on from father to son.  It is not something gained by knowing or lost by forgetting.  If the Tao were like this, it would have been lost and forgotten long ago.”  I contrasted this passage with the Book of Proverbs, in which wisdom cries out in the marketplace and is passed down from parents to child.  There are some passages in the Tao Te Ching that reminded me of Proverbs—-verse 6, for example, presents the Tao as a female to which one should listen, which is similar to Proverbs’ portrayal of Lady Wisdom.  But verse 67 appeared different from Proverbs.  The Tao Te Ching may have a problem with wisdom being conceptualized as a path that is taught through tradition and family, seeing it instead as something that is inside of us and all around us.  At the same time, it does value teachers: humble people who highlight the way, often through their demeanor and their lives more than their words.

F.  The Tao Te Ching is critical of trying to become virtuous through rigorous obedience to rules.  It wants for people to yield to the Tao, which has a moral/ethical component, but it seems to believe that, if people have to obey rules to be moral, then something is wrong.  Virtue should flow more naturally than that.  There are verses that are rather explicit about this (i.e., 18, 67), but I think that this concept sheds light on an odd statement in verse 38: “When the Tao is lost, there is goodness.  When goodness is lost, there is morality.  When morality is lost, there is ritual.  Ritual is the husk of true faith, the beginning of chaos.”  In reading these passages, Pauline concepts come to mind: the idea that the law was a temporary measure to respond to, expose, and restrain sin.  The law could not cure sin, in Paul’s mind, but now believers have the Holy Spirit, who enables them to conform to God’s righteous requirements through a transformed nature.

G.  The Tao Te Ching struck me as politically libertarian.  I do not want to go so far as to suggest that it would support the government eviscerating the social safety net and allowing social Darwinism to take its course.  But it is critical of government intrusion.  To quote verse 75: “When taxes are too high, people go hungry.  When the government is too intrusive, people lose their spirit.  Act for the people’s benefit; trust them, leave them alone.”  Incidentally, the college student who exposed me to the Tao Te Ching was a libertarian Republican.

H.  That said, I have read concerns that Taoism slows economic progress and is incompatible with capitalism.  Taoism supports a relaxed attitude, which lets things happen rather than making things happen, and which is contrary to greed and ambition.  These attitudes arguably run counter to the rushed pace of dog-eat-dog capitalism.  In reading the Tao Te Ching, I wondered how practical it was.  It advocated keeping a low profile, painting a picture of the humble being exalted.  Can people truly succeed in this world without promoting themselves?  And do things really happen without us working and trying to influence them to happen?

There is overlap between Taoism and the Bible.  Proverbs 27:2 says that we should let others praise us and not our own mouth, and the Book of Proverbs often extols the virtue of silence.  Jesus in Matthew 6:34 says that we should not be worried about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself.  At the same time, the Book of Proverbs also stresses the work ethic, which can be reconciled with Western capitalism.

I think that there is some wisdom to the Tao Te Ching and the Bible, on these issues.  Humility can be attractive, for people may trust those who humbly desire to be of service rather than seeking their own exaltation.  I just wonder if such a path should be absolutized.  In this world, people who express and promote themselves are often the ones who advance.  And things do not always work well on their own, without some effort to influence things to happen through action.

I.    There is a lot of emphasis in the Tao Te Ching on emptiness.  A number of conservative Christians criticize Eastern religions for this.  “Eastern religion says that we should empty our minds, whereas the Bible says that we should fill our minds—-with God’s word.”  Some conservative Christians go so far as to suggest that emptying one’s mind creates a void that demons will be happy to inhabit!  The Tao Te Ching stresses positive concepts, such as virtue, generosity, and love for enemies.  It also suggests that people can enjoy the Tao, whatever their station is in life.  That sounds like something positive, not nothingness or emptiness.  Why, then, does the Tao Te Ching advocate emptiness?  I do not entirely understand this, but it may be using the concept of emptiness to highlight certain values: there is a value to clearing one’s mind every so often, for that can encourage relaxation; there is also the value of emptying oneself of pride.

J.  Verse 41 took me aback.  The first paragraph states: “A great scholar hears of the Tao and begins diligent practice.  A middling scholar hears of the Tao and retains some and loses some.  An inferior scholar hears of the Tao and roars with ridicule.  Without that laugh, it would not be the Tao.”

This may conflict with some of what I said in (E.), assuming I knew what I was talking about in (E.), which is not a guarantee!

This passage took me aback because it seemed to be criticizing the inferior scholar who laughs at the Tao, and yet it appeared to see value even in that laughter!  When a person laughs at the message of the Tao, then you know that you have the genuine article!  The reason may be that the Tao does advocate a counter-intuitive life, one of humility, generosity, and love for enemies.  Moreover, it maintains that such a path benefits the person who practices it.  A domesticated version of the Tao, which does not draw laughter or inspire a response of perplexity, is not the genuine article.  There are Christians who claim that the same can be said of Christianity.

K.  Verse 70 had some odd lines: “My words have an ancestor; my deeds have a lord.  The people have no knowledge of this, therefore they have no knowledge of me.  This is why the sage dresses plainly, even though his interior is filled with precious gems.”

How does the sage’s modest apparel relate to people’s lack of knowledge about the antiquity and majesty of the Tao?  If the sage wanted people to see the Tao as majestic, would he not wear fancy clothes rather than modest apparel?  Perhaps the passage is saying that the sage is approaching people where they are rather than attempting to dazzle them.  Dazzling them, when they are in no position to be dazzled, would be like throwing pearls before swine (Matthew 7:6).  Jesus himself came to the world as a humble human being, rather than parading his exalted status.  People could relate to that and be more open to his teaching.

Book Write-Up: Confucius' Analects

I recently read Confucius’ Analects.  Specifically, I read the Penguin Classics version, for which D.C. Lau was the translator.  Lau also provided an informative introduction.

Here are some of my thoughts:

A.  I will quote a paragraph from the back cover because that paragraph provides a cogent summary of Confucius’ thought.  I did read the entire book, though!

“‘How dare I claim to be a sage or a benevolent man?’

“By constructing the philosophy expressed through The Analects, Confucius might well dare to make such a claim.  The Analects are a collection of Confucius’ saying, compiled by his pupils shortly after his death in 497 B.C., and they reflect the extent to which Confucius held up a moral ideal for all men.  The aim is the perfection of one’s moral character, the method one of arduous pursuit of such moral attributes as benevolence, wisdom, courage; the result is no recompense in this life or the next—-to follow the Way must be its own reward.  A harsh philosophy perhaps, but shining through it is the splendid intellect and spirit of one of the most reasonable and humane thinkers of all time.”

B.  The Analects remind me of the biblical Book of Proverbs.  Proverbs instructs people about how to impress authorities and the importance of being humble.  As the summary above says, Confucius believed that people should follow the Way, even if they do not receive a reward in this life or the hereafter.  Yet, the Analects do contain a measure of “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” (not a quotation): a belief that following certain rules can bring a person advancement.  There is also a notion that, when the Way is prevalent in society, adherents to the Way should be prospering.  But there is also a belief in contentment where one is, as one is nourished by the Way itself and finds a home therein.

C.  An idea that appears more than once in The Analects is that a ruler can bring out the best in his subjects by being good and compassionate rather than attempting to inspire fear.  A ruler is to be concerned about the well-being of his subjects, whatever their stations in life, and Confucius also supported trying to reform convicts rather than hastily executing them.  As I read these passages, I was comparing them with the biblical portrayal of God.  Throughout the Hebrew Bible, God rules people benevolently, yet they respond with stubborn disobedience; the Bible appears more pessimistic than Confucius about human nature.  God also rules through fear, in a sense, since the Torah in the Hebrew Bible prescribes the death penalty for all sorts of offenses, and the prophets forecast woes as divine punishment for disobedience.  In the New Testament, beliefs about human stubbornness in the face of divine benevolence as well as divine retribution persist, yet there is also a notion that the law, with its condemnations, is a dead end in terms of encouraging people to change, so now God focuses on grace.

D.  I was comparing Confucius’ political philosophy with God’s governance according to the Bible, but what was Confucius’ theology?  Did he regard the divine realm as benevolent?  There is a passage in The Analects that states that Confucius did not discuss the gods.  Although Confucius does not present a theology, there are still assumptions about the gods in The Analects.  There are gods in heaven and below.  People should sacrifice to these gods, and sometimes this occurs at mealtimes.  People can displease Heaven, in which case they have nowhere to go with their prayers.  Overall, they should keep a respectful distance from the gods.  You would think that Confucius saw the gods as beings to appease, not so much as the embodiment of virtue.  Yet, Confucius states at one point that Heaven placed virtue within him.

E.  Another theme that recurs in The Analects is the importance of rites, which include sacrifices to the gods, honoring ancestors, and civic rituals.  For Confucius, the rites ground people in the essentials.  They humble those who are of high station.  In the Gospels of the New Testament, Jesus accuses scribes and Pharisees of legalism: of being rigorous in observing rites of the Torah while missing the point on such vital principles as justice and compassion.  The apostle Paul believed that the Torah served a purpose at one stage of God’s plan but with the coming of Jesus has been superseded, at least partially.  In The Analects, Confucius was sensitive to such concerns, within his own context.  In places, Confucius seemed to maintain that literal observance of the rites were not enough, that motivation and character were important.  Observing the rites in an obsequious manner was not the proper path, for Confucius.  Confucius also held that there could be flexibility in observing the rites and following the Way, since historical contexts and situations varied over time.

F.  In some places, Confucius could be quite rigid: be courageous!  In other places, though, he recognizes human flaws and foibles, both his own and those of his disciples.  He realizes that he is a work in progress.  But he also acknowledges what he believes to be his strengths.  Moreover, his compassion and mercy notwithstanding, he only spends his time teaching students who are willing to learn, and who demonstrate that willingness by trying to figure things out on their own.  Confucius’ disciples varied in their level of character and aptitude: some mastered virtue quickly, some missed the point at times and needed correction, and some failed to think before speaking or acting.  In the synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ disciples often did not understand what Jesus was saying.  The agenda behind the portrayal of a master’s disciples may be an interesting topic to research.

G.  I put a question mark beside some of Confucius’ statements.  I had to think about them, and sometimes I hit a dead end.  One passage that I contemplated is 4:3: “The Master said, ‘It is only the benevolent man who is capable of liking or disliking other men.”  How so?  The conclusion I reached was that, when we are benevolent, we judge people according to their character, how they are.  We like or dislike them, in short.  When we lack benevolence, by contrast, we value them according to how well they benefit us.  We are not liking or disliking them, per se, but rather are focusing on our own benefit.  I could be wrong on this, but that was my way of trying to make sense of what Confucius said there.

Book Write-Up: Taking Pascal's Wager, by Michael Rota

Michael Rota.  Taking Pascal’s Wager: Faith, Evidence and the Abundant Life.  Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2016.  See here to purchase the book.

Michael Rota teaches philosophy at the University of St. Thomas, which is in St. Paul, Minnesota.  In Taking Pascal’s Wager, Rota argues that Pascal’s Wager has viability in encouraging people to believe in God.

Pascal’s Wager is often conceptualized as a bet, in which one looks at the options of believing in God and not believing in God to determine which is more beneficial to oneself, without knowing for certain whether God actually exists.  If God does exist and a person embraces God, then that person will gain spiritual health (i.e., hope, inner peace, etc.) in this life and eternal bliss in the afterlife.  If God exists and a person rejects God, by contrast, that person will lack spiritual health in this life and will have eternal misery in the afterlife.  Suppose that God does not exist, though?  Even in that case, a person can have spiritual health by believing in God, and lack spiritual health by thinking that this world is all there is.  In short, what does one have to lose by believing in God, or at least seeking God?

Pascal’s Wager, on the surface, can appear to be a selfish calculation, and yet, as Rota argues, it need not be so, for belief in God can encourage one to help others, as well.

In this review, I will look at select chapters and comment on select items.

Chapter 3, “Moral Reservations and the Cost of Commitment,” deserves praise because Rota does attempt to address difficult questions about Pascal’s Wager.  Of course, Rota addresses the conventional criticisms of it: that it trivializes faith by making it into a gamble, and a selfish gamble at that, and that it treats blind faith as a virtue rather than, say, kindness or the pursuit of truth.  But Rota also interacts with excellent questions.  For example, if God is not real, would not a person be wasting his or her time by pursuing devotional activities, rather than other activities during one’s limited time on earth?  And suppose that one lived in a country where Christianity was persecuted.  Would one do well to believe in Christ then, especially in a scenario in which the Christian God did not exist?  In some cases, Rota’s answers are deft and effective; in other cases, he falls back on saying that one should believe because there is a decent chance that the Christian God is real and that one can be separated from God in the afterlife by not believing in God.

A challenge to me in reading this chapter is that Rota seemed to argue that simply believing in God is not enough to gain the benefits of faith in this life: one actually needs to be a good Christian, or, more accurately, a sociable, likable Christian.  That can provide a person with social support from the Christian community, and perhaps appease potential persecutors.  But, as a person with Asperger’s, I wonder: what if a person believes in God, yet struggles socially?  Or what about the many people, period, who struggle in their Christian walk?  To his credit, though, Rota in the conclusion does offer practical, albeit brief, spiritual advice about prayer, reading Scripture, and finding a loving Christian community.

Chapter 4, “More Objections to the Wager: Other Religions and Christianity,” addresses a formidable question about the Wager: What about other religions?  Objectors have argued that Pascal’s Wager only talks about two choices: Christianity and atheism.  Does not the existence of other religions muddy the water, though, by adding other options, with their own benefits and risks?  Suppose that one selects Christianity, and it turns out that one had to be a Muslim to enter the good afterlife and avoid hell?

Rota recognizes the gravity of the problem, as is often the case when he deals with detractors of whatever he is defending in this book: Pascal’s Wager, the cosmological and fine-tuning arguments for the existence of God, the arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection, etc.  In a sense, this chapter sets the stage for the rest of the book, in which Rota argues that God exists and that there is a decent likelihood that Christianity is the true religion.

Chapter 5, “Where Did Physical Things Come From?”, was Rota’s explanation and defense (on some level) of the cosmological argument for the existence of God.  This chapter had an inviting, lucid tone, and Rota shone in this chapter as a gifted teacher.  Rota argued that contingent beings needed to originate from some necessary being, and Rota clearly explains the difference between contingent and necessary beings.  To his credit, Rota believes that the cosmological argument has its limits, for he can think of necessary entities other than God that can cause or sustain contingent entities.  A slight qualm that I had with this chapter was that Rota said that a necessary being always has to exist: a necessary being cannot exist at some point and later cease to exist, otherwise the being would not fit the definition of a necessary being, who necessarily exists (always has and always will).  Rota’s reasoning here appears sensible, yet I wonder if the contrast between necessary and contingent beings has to be so stark.  Could not a god or a creative force have always existed has far back into the past as one can go, yet at some point cease to exist?  Rota would probably have a decent answer to this question, and I would not defend my question to the end, but it is a question that occurs to me.

Chapters 6 and 8 concern the fine-tuning argument for the existence of God.  For Rota, the fine-tuning argument demonstrates that an intelligent being designed the cosmos.  Rota’s responses to most of the objections to the fine-tuning argument that he cites are effective, overall.  In my opinion, an exception would be his discussion of the multiverse.  An objection to the fine-tuning argument is that there are a lot of multiverses out there, many of which lack life, so it is not such a statistical wonder that at least one of those universes came together in such a manner as to support life.  Rota did not clearly address that objection.  This chapter had a lot of probabilistic equations.  Rota said that, if both God and multiverses exist, then there is a greater likelihood that many of those multiverses would have life, for God is a God of purpose and life.  That is an interesting point, but it fails to answer the objection.  Rota’s ultimate answer seems to be that, apart from a designer, the likelihood of life existing in any universe is minute.  I am unclear why that would be the case.  Even if Rota addressed that question, he could have been clearer and more direct.

Chapter 9 is entitled “The Beauty and Existential Resonance of Christianity.”  Rota argues that Christianity offers a beautiful moral standard while accounting for the reality that we fail to live up to it.  Later in the book, in chapter 12, Rota states that it makes sense that a God who exists would hide himself rather than making himself overly obvious—-so that people would believe in him voluntarily and for the right reasons.  Rota also states that a God who exists would probably start a church to pass on God’s teaching and assist people to follow it.  Rota essentially believes that Christianity is moral and makes sense, that it is the sort of revelation that the fine-tuning necessary being who started the cosmos and cares for it would make.  The problem of hell was occurring to me as I read this chapter, though.  Would a loving God condemn people in hell, especially when so many people seem to lack the opportunity to embrace God, or Christianity?  This question is especially pertinent because the threat of hell looms large in Pascal’s Wager.  Perhaps Rota should have given the usual stock responses to that sort of question, and that would have made the book better.  I doubt I would have been convinced, though.

Chapter 10, “Counterevidence: Divine Hiddenness and Evil,” was actually an effective chapter, as it discussed the problem of evil.  Rota addresses the question of whether the suffering that God permits is overkill, assuming God allows people to suffer to improve them morally and spiritually.  Rota essentially asks how we would quantify the appropriate amount of suffering: is any suffering too much?  That is not entirely convincing, but it is a thought-provoking response.  Rota’s discussion of Van Inwagen’s treatment of suffering was helpful: Inwagen rejected the idea that God is directly responsible for specific acts of suffering, but Inwagen believed that God permits a world in which suffering exists for educative purposes.  God does not directly cause a person’s illness for a specific reason that is tailored towards that person, in short, but God permits a world in which illness exists for a general purpose.  Rota’s discussion of Eleonore Stump’s interaction with the problem of evil had some edifying aspects, specifically Stump’s discussion of God’s concern about the spiritual and moral health of Cain and God’s attempts to reach out to him.  The prominence of hell in this discussion somewhat spoiled it for me, though.

Chapter 11, “Historical Evidence for Christianity: The Resurrection,” contained classical apologetic arguments for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection.  An advantage to this chapter is that Rota interacts with challenges from detractors to such arguments, such as John Shelby Spong.  Rota places some emphasis on the claim that certain church fathers knew the apostles, as well as the Christian creed and appeal to eyewitnesses that Paul cites in I Corinthians 15:3-8.  Rota also stresses that Paul believed that the resurrection was bodily, which would be consistent with the Gospels’ presentation of an empty tomb, and would preclude the possibility that the idea of Jesus’ resurrection arose from a mere hallucination.  This chapter was all right, and yet I believe that questions can still be asked.  What, for example, would Rota do with the second century “Gnostic” Christian teachers who claimed to receive their teaching from someone who knew an apostle, or apostles?  While most New Testament scholars reject Robert M. Price’s view that the creed in I Corinthians 15:3-8 was a later interpolation, agreeing with Rota that it was an earlier creed that Paul received, Price, in my opinion, still asks valid questions: if an early creed—-the official creed that the church passed on to new initiates—-mentioned five-hundred witnesses to the risen Jesus, why does no later New Testament Gospel mention that specific appearance of Jesus?  And, even if Rota is correct on the evidence for Jesus’ resurrection, does that necessarily prove that Christianity is the only divinely-authoritative religion, or that everything Jesus said and taught is true?  Are there other possibilities?  Could God authorize Christianity, while still revealing Godself in other religions, as well?  That brings to mind another criticism I have: Rota defends Christianity without really presenting arguments that other religions are wrong, or deficient.  That is significant, in light of the “other religions” argument against Pascal’s Wager.

Before I proceed to the biographical parts of Rota’s book, I want to make a comment about the apologetic element of Rota’s book.  It should have had more Pascal: more references to and interaction with Pascal’s thought!  Pascal, as Rota knows, did not just present Pascal’s Wager but offered other apologetic arguments, as well.  From Phil Fernandes’ 2004 article, “The Apologetic Methodology of Blaise Pascal” (http://www.leaderu.com/apologetics/pascalmethodology.html), I gather that some of Pascal’s arguments coincide with Rota’s approach, whereas others diverge from it.  Pascal was leery of the cosmological and teleological arguments, but he probably would have loved Rota’s moral and existential arguments and appeal to beauty.  Pascal also employed a historical argument for Christianity, so he overlaps with Rota on this, even though Rota’s arguments are more up-to-date from a scholarly standpoint.  Mentioning and interacting with Pascal’s apologetics would have made this book better.  Rota could have mentioned and briefly engaged Pascal’s problems with the cosmological and teleological arguments, before justifying his own appeal to them.  On historical arguments for Christianity, Rota could have offered a judgment about where Pascal’s historical argument fell short, and how recent scholarship can improve historical arguments for Christianity, or offer better arguments.

The following three chapters are biographical, as they discuss three figures who made a decision for God and found happiness as a result, notwithstanding significant challenges.  Chapter 13 is about Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  Rota talks about how Bonhoeffer in prison had a joyful, loving attitude, and Rota attributed that to Bonhoeffer’s faith.  To provide a more rounded portrait, however, Rota should have discussed the view that Bonhoeffer was a Christian atheist, and possible struggles that Bonhoeffer had.  This goes back to my critique of Chapter 3: What about Christians who struggle?

Chapter 14 was about Jean Vanier, who left a promising position in academia to work with the developmentally-delayed.  This chapter had beautiful things to say about the love that developmentally-delayed people can show, and how those who work with them can feel free to accept themselves in their presence.  This coincides with Pascal’s argument that serving God can bring blessings in this life.  The picture of working with the developmentally-delayed was rather one-sided, however, for that kind of work can also have its challenges.

Chapter 15 especially spoke to me.  It was about Immaculee Ilibagiza’s struggle to forgive, and the things that God told her to help her to forgive.  I have been criticizing this book for not acknowledging struggling Christians enough.  This chapter was an exception.

Notwithstanding my critiques, I give this book four stars.  Rota is an engaging and lucid author, and he wrestles with tough challenges.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.  My review is honest!

Book Write-Up: A Little Book for New Philosophers, by Paul Copan

Paul Copan.  A Little Book for New Philosophers: Why and How to Study Philosophy.  Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2016.  See here to purchase the book.

Paul Copan teaches philosophy at Palm Beach Atlantic University.

As the subtitle of this book indicates, this book talks about the advantages of studying philosophy.  It seems to be aimed at people who wonder whether they should pursue philosophy as an academic study, perhaps for a career in academia.

The book thoughtfully explores a variety of subjects: the increasing acceptance of theism within philosophical circles, arguments for the existence of God, the existence of the soul, verificationism, similarities and differences between the God of the Bible and the philosophical God (i.e., the picture of God influenced by Greek philosophy), the question of whether atheists bear any burden of proof, and what to do with religious doubt.  Copan also defends the study of philosophy against Christians who regard it as antithetical to Christianity.  Not only does Copan offer an alternative interpretation of Bible verses that have been cited against philosophy, but he also effectively argues that Scripture itself, along with Christian minds throughout history, have encouraged the life of the mind.

Copan also offers a lay-of-the-land of academia, as he speaks from experience as an academic philosopher.  For Copan, Christian philosophers should exemplify the fruit of the Spirit in how they treat colleagues, including those with whom they disagree.  This may sound obvious, but Copan offers practical advice on how to be a Christian in academia: how to view one’s own work, how to help others, and how being in a group of Christian philosophers can be important.  Cohan also shares how he went through Coppleston’s series of books on philosophy, and that may be helpful to people who are seriously interested in the field, as well as people whose minds can easily wander when they are reading!

I would like to quote some of my favorite lines in the book, just to give you a taste:

“Practicing philosophy in the way of Jesus, for instance, requires that professors never publicly dismantle a graduate student’s paper at a conference” (page 81).

“So whether we publish much or little, whether our work is widely admired or falls stillborn from the press, we will be a faithful presence wherever God has placed us” (pages 82-83).

“My PhD advisor told me not to attempt anything earthshaking for my dissertation…He suggested I keep my nose to the grindstone, work hard and save any bold work for later” (pages 92-93).

And, as someone who wonders if James 1:6-8 condemns all doubt, I appreciated Cohan’s interpretation: “Actually, James is condemning a mindset of divided loyalty between God and the world—-a spiritual adultery” (page 103).

The book may help Christian students at secular universities to feel less alone when their Christianity is challenged.  This book demonstrates that intelligent people have embraced Christianity and have pursued careers in academia.

This book, by itself, may not provide Christian students with sufficient arguments to use against atheists and skeptics, who can easily respond with “Where’s the proof for God’s existence?”, dismiss some arguments as wishful thinking, or see some arguments as “God in the gaps” arguments.  Copan criticizes “God in the gaps” arguments as lazy, but he also seems to prefer theistic explanations because they at least attempt to account for things that puzzle naturalists.  Naturalists would probably see that approach itself as a “God in the gaps” approach, believing that we should not dismiss the possibility of a natural explanation just because one currently eludes us.  The book may still provide Christian students with a starting-point in addressing atheist and skeptical arguments.

A disappointment, in terms of the book, is that it did not really explore how Christians can be edified by philosophical insights.  Granted, it talked about how philosophy can sharpen one’s mind, but, when it came to philosophy, it largely focused on the questions of whether God and the soul exist.  Can philosophy do more than buttress what Christians already believe to be true?  Can it teach them anything new?  On pages 38-39, Copan refers positively to analytic theologians who “haven’t focused primarily on Christian apologetics or arguments for God’s existence…”  Copan’s book would have been better had its horizons been broader.

The book also had somewhat of a siege mentality, in places: Christians must try to protect their faith, and Christians should hang around their own.  I should stress, though, that, the opposite approach is in the book, too, as it encourages those interested in philosophy to learn the thoughts of major philosophical figures and to engage atheist and skeptical philosophers.  Copan also has reasons for holding the Christian faith, which include arguments, its explanatory power, its satisfaction of human longings, and the experiences of the supernatural by people he knows.  I doubt that Copan is insecure in his faith.  It just seems that he is for exploration, but he wants it to arrive at Christian conclusions.  Of course, there are atheists and skeptics who are the same way, with their own worldviews, but is there a way to be open-minded while holding a particular worldview, as opposed to being in a no-man’s land?

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.  My review is honest!

Book Write-Up: Kierkegaard, by Mark A. Tietjen

Mark A. Tietjen.  Kierkegaard: A Christian Missionary to Christians.  Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2016.  See here to buy the book.

Soren Kierkegaard was a nineteenth century Danish Christian philosopher.  Kierkegaard had problems with the Christendom of his day, for he thought that it was nominal and cultural rather than vibrant and spiritually authentic.  According to Mark A. Tietjen, Kierkegaard was a Christian missionary to Christians, and Kierkegaard had insights that can challenge, instruct, and edify Christians today.

A number of the insights that Tietjen presents can be encountered in other Christian writings and sermons, as important as these insights may be: one should be a doer of God’s word and not just a hearer; one should set one’s sights above momentary and temporary pleasure but also moralistic legalism.  In addition, while Tietjen discusses how Kierkegaard diagnosed a number of spiritual and psychological maladies that people have, there was not much in Tietjen’s book about possible solutions to these maladies, other than turning to Jesus.  How that would help was not sufficiently explained.  (A refreshing exception is Tietjen’s chapter on Christian love.)

The tension between relying on God’s grace and rigorously doing good works also appears unresolved in Tietjen’s book.  On the one hand, Kierkegaard was critical of how the Lutheran emphasis on God’s grace bred spiritual apathy, passivity, laziness, and complacency.  Kierkegaard advocated obedience and self-denial in the Christian life.  Yet, in a beautiful passage, Kierkegaard encouraged people with a variety of problems (i.e., loneliness, being forgotten, being suicidal, etc.) to rest in Christ’s love, for Christ’s burden is light.  Are Christians supposed to strive for perfection or rest in God’s grace?  What is the proper mixture of these two approaches, or the correct relationship between them?  Tietjen should have addressed this issue.

At the same time, there were plenty of positive aspects to Tietjen’s book.  Tietjen tied his discussion of Kierkegaard’s thought to Kierkegaard’s historical context (i.e., historical critical interpretations of the Bible).  Tietjen continually connected his discussion of spirituality to specific passages in Kierkegaard’s writings, both devotional and non-devotional, and Tietjen occasionally highlighted distinct features of Kierkegaard’s thought.  Tietjen’s point about how Kierkegaard often wrote from a non-believing standpoint (under a pseudonym) to get Christians to think was intriguing.  Tietjen effectively responded to conservative Christian criticisms of Kierkegaard----particularly those by Dave Breese and Francis Schaeffer----and Tietjen’s response was nuanced and informative.  (For example, while Kierkegaard has been labeled a Christian existentialist, Tietjen highlights where Kierkegaard differed from existentialism.  Tietjen also addresses Kierkegaard’s discussion of the akedah in Genesis 22, denying that Kierkegaard was advocating a thoroughly irrational obedience of God.)

The best chapter in the book, in my opinion, is the one on Christian love.  At first, I did not enjoy what I was reading in that chapter because Kierkegaard seemed to be presenting Christian love as extremely difficult, if not impossible: Who among us, Christian and non-Christian, can love others without at least some self-interest?  Yet, that is God wants from us, according to Kierkegaard.  But the chapter shared helpful insights as it proceeded: about how we should remember and trust that all people have love within them because they were created in God’s image, and what hurt, jaded, burnt-out people should do when they are reluctant or afraid to love others.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.  

Book Write-Up: The Lion of Princeton, by Kim Riddlebarger

Kim Riddlebarger.  The Lion of Princeton: B.B. Warfield as Apologist and Theologian.  Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015.  See here to purchase the book.

B.B. Warfield was a theologically conservative professor at Princeton in the late nineteenth-early twentieth centuries.  In The Lion of Princeton, Kim Riddlebarger discusses the life and thought of this formidable figure.

The book explores a lot of topics, but the most prominent topic concerns Warfield's thoughts about the relationship between apologetics and grace.  Calvinists believe that a person cannot genuinely come to God without a supernatural act of grace: God unilaterally transforming that person such that the person loves God and righteousness.  For Calvinists, people are too sinful to come to God on their own initiative, and that is why an act of transforming grace is necessary.  But B.B. Warfield was an advocate of classic apologetics, particularly in his defense the historicity of Jesus' resurrection.  For certain Calvinist critics, classic apologetics presumes that the truth can be ascertained by people on the basis of reason and evidence, which nullifies the importance of transforming grace in enabling people to accept the Gospel.  These critics think that the Reformed understanding of conversion and classic apologetics run in different, contrary directions.

Although Warfield was Reformed, he engaged in classic apologetics regarding Jesus' resurrection, and there are scholars who believe that he was compromising Reformed tenets in so doing.  Riddlebarger, however, argues the opposite and presents Warfield as truly Reformed in his thought.  For Warfield, God can make use of apologetics in drawing people to Godself.  Plus, even if the truth can be ascertained through a consideration of the evidence, God needs to transform people so that they can truly embrace and live that truth.  Grace and reason both play a role in conversion, as far as Warfield is concerned.

This looks pretty simple, but the book is still meaty.  For example, Riddlebarger talks about how Warfield responded to Lessing's argument that eternal or general truths cannot be based on the probabilities of history.  Lessing's argument posed a challenge to Warfield's belief that the truth of Christianity could be supported by a historical defense of Jesus' resurrection, so Warfield had a lot to say about it.

In addition, there were areas in which it was difficult to see how Warfield's views on apologetics and grace held together.  On the one hand, Warfield seemed to believe that the Gospel itself was rational: Warfield argued that, even if God needs to transform a person for that person to believe a message, the message itself can still be rational, so there is no necessary contradiction between Calvinist views on conversion and classic apologetics.  On the other hand, Warfield also appeared to maintain that the contents of God's revelation themselves could not be ascertained or supported by evidence or reason, for they are beyond human beings.  What can be supported by evidence, for Warfield, were the signs that authenticated that the message was from God (i.e., miracles, Jesus' resurrection), not the contents of God's revelation itself.  Humans can look at themselves and conclude that they are sinners, but they cannot through reason climb to a knowledge and understanding of God's plan to redeem them: God needs to reveal that to them from above.  But God can still authenticate that message through miracles, and that is accessible to human evaluation of historical evidence.  Warfield apparently believes that the contents of God's revelation and the historical signs need to go together: God's revelation tells us the significance of the historical signs, otherwise the signs would be isolated flukes without much significance by themselves; and yet the signs attest to the truth of the divine revelation, by showing it is from God.  Warfield appears to overlap with both presuppositonal and classic apologists, notwithstanding the criticism that presuppositional apologists have made of his work.

Riddlebarger makes other points in this book as well.  Riddlebarger argues that Warfield's thought was heavily influenced by the Scottish Common Sense tradition.  The Scottish Common Sense tradition maintained that we should trust our sensory perception of the world because we intuit that as common sense; it contended against the skeptical positions of philosophers like David Hume.  As Riddlebarger demonstrates, the concepts of realism (i.e., we can reliably sense, understand, and conceptualize the world), intuition, and induction (we can form conclusions from specific things) that the Scottish Common Sense tradition emphasized played a significant role in Warfield's thought.  They undergirded his focus on history in doing apologetics (which is consistent with realism and induction), as well as his belief that people can intuit basic truths about God (i.e., God's existence).

Riddlebarger also discusses Warfield's polemics against revivalism, specifically the belief among certain revivalists that Christians could become morally and spiritually perfect in this life.  While Warfield did make contributions to fundamentalism, Warfield also differed from many fundamentalists, in key areas.  Riddlebarger also has a chapter about Warfield's textual criticism of the New Testament, which Warfield taught at Princeton.  Warfield believed that the New Testament was inerrant in its original autographs, and that, through textual criticism, we could arrive at a reliable understanding of what those original autographs said.  Surprisingly, according to Riddlebarger, Warfield was controversial among conservatives because he acknowledged that parts of Mark 16 were added later to the text and were not part of the original.  Riddlebarger also briefly discusses Warfield's openness to evolution; according to Riddlebarger, Warfield had an interest in biology.

This book is certainly informative, and it makes a contribution to scholarly discussions about Warfield.  The book was somewhat scattered, however, and I think it could have defined terms more clearly: induction, deduction, Thomism, etc.  A glossary would have been helpful.  The last two pages were rather clear, though, and they did a fairly decent job tying things together and making Riddlebarger's point.  Riddlebarger did not talk that much about Warfield's beliefs on biblical inspiration and inerrancy, which were issues of importance for Warfield.  Riddlebarger mentioned those topics, but he did not really explain the nuances of Warfield's understanding of them.  That, in my opinion, is disappointing.  The book is still a meaty explanation of Warfield's thought.  A background in philosophy and theology would help a reader appreciate this book and understand more of it; yet, a reader without an extensive background in those things can still learn from this book.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review. 
 

Book Write-Up: Philosophy in Seven Sentences, by Douglas Groothuis

Douglas Groothuis.  Philosophy in Seven Sentences: A Small Introduction to a Vast Topic.  Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Academic, 2016.  See here to buy the book.

In Philosophy in Seven Sentences, Christian philosopher Douglas Groothuis discusses the thought of seven Western philosophers.  Groothuis focuses on seven quotations.  The quotations (in whatever translations Groothuis is using) are as follows:

Protagoras: “Man is the measure of all things.”

Socrates: “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Aristotle: “All men by nature desire to know.”

Augustine: “You have made us for yourself, and restless is our heart until it comes to rest in you.”

Descartes: “I think, therefore I am.”

Pascal: “The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.”

Kierkegaard: “The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all.”

There were things in this book that I already knew, from my undergraduate education and personal reading.  But I did learn things that I did not previously know (or know too well), such as Pascal’s emphasis on knowing apart from analytical reason and Kierkegaard’s views on the self.

The book is a decent introduction to Western philosophy.  It gives details about the seven philosophers’ lives and their significance within the history of Western philosophy.  Overall, it summarizes and interacts with their thought clearly, though a few passages may require a little more concentration on the part of the reader (i.e., in my case, brief passages in the chapters on Descartes and Kierkegaard).

Perhaps the most endearing quality of the book is how Groothuis brings himself into the discussion.  He talks about his teaching experiences, his students’ reactions to some of the philosophers, the philosophical insights he particularly loves, and his experiences as a student.  He writes with a sense of humor.  He evaluates the quotations from his Christian perspective, yet he appreciates each philosopher and tries to understand the philosophers on their own terms (though he largely disagrees with Protagoras).  Groothuis’ book is introductory, yet he clues readers in about the larger discussions and debates within the academic community.

Groothuis’ tone was pleasant, as if he were offering readers things to think about rather than dogmatically trying to force them to believe a certain way.  I think of the final chapter in which Groothuis is discussing what he gains from the insight or perspective of each philosopher.  He disagrees with Protagoras because, if all we have are ourselves and our own perspectives, can we rise any higher than ourselves?  Good question.

There were occasional times when I winced a bit.  Groothuis was talking about the law of non-contradiction and was using that to argue that we cannot say that all religions are right, or that no religion is wrong.  True, but can one embrace some form of religious pluralism while still believing in the law of non-contradiction?  Groothuis says that Socrates at times referred to God rather than a specific god.  I was not sure what Groothuis was implying in saying that: Was he implying some overlap between Socratic thought and Jewish/Christian monotheism?  The Greeks often spoke of God in the singular, while still believing in many gods.  Groothuis may have done well to have included an endnote explaining this phenomenon.

I am still trying to wrap my head around at least one point that Groothuis makes.  Groothuis raises the question of whether Descartes has undermined empiricism.  Empiricism states that “all knowledge is based on our experience of the space-time world of objects, events and processes” (Groothuis on pages 89-90).  In essence, under empiricism, knowledge is gained solely through one’s senses of the outside world.  But Descartes claimed that he arrived at a truth through reason alone, apart from the senses: “I think, therefore I am.”

Of course, one could say that there are still truths that people gain through the senses, and even that some knowledge that certain philosophers believe are ascertained purely by reason (a priori) actually have their roots in sensory experience (i.e., I believe 1+1=2 because I have seen examples of that in real life).  But Groothuis, perhaps like other philosophers, believes that the debate is more absolutist than that: if one can find any example of knowledge that is not empirical, then that undermines empiricism, which claims that all knowledge is empirical.  Is self-consciousness an example of knowledge that is not empirical?  I wrestle with that, somewhat.  Granted, I am not aware of my thoughts or my existence specifically through the five senses, even though what I learn from the five senses does provide things for me to think about.  Would I say, then, that “some knowledge is given to the self apart from the outside world” (page 90)?  Maybe, but self-consciousness is pretty basic, isn’t it?  Groothuis also refers to Noam Chomsky’s view that “basic structures of grammar are innate”, as in “hard-wired” into us (page 93, Groothuis’ words).

Although Groothuis is more advanced than I am in the academic study of philosophy, I was comparing what he said with my own experiences in philosophy and religion classes, and that was enjoyable.  Groothuis criticized how some philosophers focus on Descartes’ skeptical discussions while ignoring how Descartes tries to get people out of skepticism through a belief in God (i.e., one believes in a good God who does not deceive us but places us in a knowable world).  Groothuis later talked about an atheist professor who ignored spiritual aspects of philosophers’ thought: Kierkegaard’s Christianity, or Hegel’s belief in a world spirit.  Fortunately, I had an atheist philosophy professor who did not ignore the spiritual dimension to philosophy.  She did not find Descartes’ argument for the existence of God to be convincing, but she did appreciate the dilemma that Descartes was presenting: either there is solipsism, or a God who makes a world that is knowable to us.

I would like to offer a few areas of disagreement with Groothuis, primarily on matters of taste.  First of all, Groothuis laments that the TV show Dexter is popular, for it heroizes a serial killer.  Contrary to what may be Groothuis’ understanding, the show is not really saying that people can do whatever they want, whenever they want.  Dexter does wrestle with a moral code, which requires him only to kill murderers.  Second, Groothuis does not care for Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz.  I love that book, even though I would agree with Groothuis that it falls short of Augustine’s Confessions!

Groothuis says in an endnote that he may write a similar book about the Eastern philosophers.  I look forward to reading it!

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.

Book Write-Up: A History of Western Philosophy and Theology, by John M. Frame

John M. Frame.  A History of Western Philosophy and Theology.  Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2015.  See here to purchase the book.

In A History of Western Philosophy and Theology, John Frame summarizes and critiques Western theological and philosophical views from the time of the Greeks through the twentieth century.  Frame refers readers to primary and secondary sources, offering advice on how to navigate the sources fruitfully (since some sources are easier to understand than others).  The book’s appendices include articles and book reviews that Frame has written.  My favorite of these was Frame’s attempt to answer the question of whether unbelievers know God, since the New Testament offers affirmative and negative answers.  The book also has a helpful glossary of key terms.

The book is over nine-hundred pages, and it covers a lot of ground.  Frame’s description and analysis of theological and philosophical views is lucid, down-to-earth, friendly, approachable to laypeople, and informative.  Anyone wishing to navigate his or her way through the complex world of Western theology and philosophy would profit from Frame’s book.  One who is curious about a particular Western theologian or philosopher would do well to consult Frame’s section about that thinker, for that would provide a foundation of understanding for further study.  Depending on one’s level of familiarity with Western theology and philosophy, one may even learn about unfamiliar thinkers from Frame’s book, sparking new interest.

Frame’s perspective is Reformed and presuppositionalist, even though Frame does not hesitate to disagree with and to critique other Reformed and presuppositionalist thinkers (i.e., Cornelius van Til, Gordon Haddon Clark).  Essentially, Frame believes that God’s revelation in the Bible provides a foundation for philosophy and theology and should be what guides it.  As far as Frame is concerned, philosophy and theology apart from consideration of God’s revelation in the Bible lead to irrationalism and contradiction.  In many cases, Frame contends, they reflect a sinful desire to find ultimacy and to ground reality in something other than the biblical God, allowing people to feed their desire for autonomy.  For Frame, the biblical revelation solves many of the paradoxes with which Western philosophers have struggled (i.e., can humans trust the ability of their mind and their senses to understand the world?  Is the cosmos unified or composed of many diverse pieces?).  Biblical revelation also avoids the unhelpful extremes to which many Western theologians and philosophers have gone—-for example, in making God overly transcendent, or overly imminent, or in highlighting one theme in biblical revelation to the exclusion of other themes, or in making issues a matter of either/or rather than both/and.  While Frame is critical of autonomous human reason, he does allow secular philosophy to edify and to inform him, in areas.  For example, Frame states that Wittgenstein has helped him to understand or better appreciate certain points of Christian theology.

I give this book five stars because it is informative, lucid, and a pleasure to read.  Still, I have some questions and critiques.

First of all, could Frame’s presuppositionalism stand in the way of understanding some of the philosophers and theologians he discusses, on their own terms?  Frame says that the ancient Greeks were rebelling against knowledge that they had of the true God (a la Romans 1:28).  For Frame, some of them were seeking a unity or common element of the cosmos in an attempt to find ultimacy without having to submit to God.  But was that really their motivation?  By embracing such a religious interpretation of their motivation, does Frame ignore a historical understanding of it, one that seeks to understand the ancient Greeks on their own terms?

Second, Frame makes some thinkers sound pretty absurd.  Kant talks about how his philosophy explains how humans have knowledge, before saying that humans do not actually know what is in the outside world.  Barth and Tillich reject the idea that God reveals propositions to people, yet theological propositions are present in their theology.  Frame is interacting with what these thinkers say, but I wonder whether their thoughts were as absurd as what Frame’s presentation implies.  Perhaps they held these apparent tensions together, in some manner.

Third, in what sense should the Bible be the foundation for philosophy and theology?  Frame does say that the truth in the Bible provides a foundation for reason: because the biblical God made a coherent world and gave us the ability to know it accurately, on some level, we can trust our reason.  At the same time, Frame is critical of theologians who added autonomous human reasoning to their theological thoughts, such as Thomas Aquinas.  Where exactly did Aquinas err?  Aquinas believed in the biblical God.  In Frame’s eyes, was Aquinas’ error seeking truth outside of the Bible?  But what is wrong with that?  Must everything we believe be supported by a biblical prooftext?  Frame himself is critical of Clark’s view that one cannot know anything outside of the Bible.

Fourth, is Frame’s presuppositionalism wishful thinking?  Sure, one can respond to epistemological skepticism by saying that the Bible presumes something different.  That does not necessarily eliminate the problems that epistemological skeptics have raised.  Nor does it eliminate the ambiguity in reality and in language that justifies some level of epistemological skepticism.  Essentially, it responds to epistemological skepticism with a mere assertion: you say that we cannot understand the world for such-and-such reasons, but my response is that we can, so there!  That does not sound too different from the thinkers Frame critiques, the ones who say that we should trust our senses because that works practically.  There is something to that, but I question whether assertion, and even assertion that comes from the Bible, solves  every problem that philosophers have raised.

This book does make me want to read more, particularly more of Frame and some of the Reformed thinkers whom he profiles.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

Can God Command Feelings?

I am reading John Frame’s A History of Western Philosophy and Theology.  I received a complimentary review copy through NetGalley.

An issue that came up in my reading a few days ago is whether God can legitimately command people to believe or to feel a certain way.

In a footnote, Frame said that people can choose what they believe.  According to Romans 1, Frame says, people choose to suppress the truth in unrighteousness.  They choose to believe what is pleasing to them as opposed to the truth.

In another footnote, Frame was referring to Hegel’s problem with God commanding people to feel a certain way.  Frame specifically mentioned Hegel’s problem with the command in Philippians 4:6: do not be anxious.  Hegel wondered how anxious people can obey this command.  Can they truly help how they feel?

In yet another footnote, Frame discussed the tendency of certain philosophers to treat law and love as dichotomous.  Their assumption is that law pertains to outward actions, whereas love concerns feelings and motives.  Frame responded that God’s law also can concern feelings and motives.  Jesus, after all, prohibited hate in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:21-22).

I often have the same frustration as Hegel.  I wonder if God is fair to command us to feel or not feel a certain way.  I deal with anxiety and unforgiveness.  There are times when I have difficulty turning these things off.  And biblical passages about the fearful having a place in the Lake of Fire (Revelation 21:8) and God not forgiving those who do not forgive others (Matthew 6:14-15; Mark 11:25-26) do not help matters.

Would I prefer for God to judge me by my actions, not by my thoughts?  Well, yes and no.  On the one hand, I do not actively take revenge on people I may hate in my heart.  I reason to myself that perhaps this may count as forgiveness before God.  I hope that it does, even though, to be honest, there are a lot of factors limiting any revenge I might want to take against people: laws, a concern for my reputation, etc.

On the other hand, as an introvert, I would prefer to focus on what goes on inside of me as opposed to what I actually do.  If I have a benevolent feeling for a person, I want that to count as love.  Some may tell me that this is not enough: that I actually have to show a person love concretely.  But certainly God is interested in my attitude, right?  The attitude defines the sort of person one is, correct?  Not surprisingly, as an introvert, I tend to prefer Christian teaching that tries to influence my attitude and perspective towards God, life, and other people.  If my attitude and perspective are all right, I reason, then that will favorably influence how I interact with other people.

That is pretty contradictory, I know.  Yet, there is some wisdom in both approaches.  I may hate a person in my heart, but I only hurt the person if I act on that hatred.  That means there is some love within me, right?  Yet, attitudes and perspectives are important, for thoughts can influence actions.

I do think that people have some say-so in what they feel.  I cannot turn off how I feel, and sometimes, as I have said before, simply telling myself to feel or not to feel a certain way does not really solve anything.  But I can choose to go to God in prayer.  I can breathe and meditate.  I can read about people who have the same struggles that I do (which can be a double-edged sword).  I can go to church, or therapy.  Many people take medication.

Interestingly, the passage that troubled Hegel, Philippians 4:6, does not just tell people not to be anxious.  It also tells people to make their requests to God with thanksgiving.  V 7 goes on to say that, then, the peace of God will keep one’s heart and mind through Christ Jesus.  Action can influence attitude.  Plus, God plays a significant role in helping a person out.

Ramblings on Grace, Life, and Theology, in Light of This Morning's Sermon

At church this morning, the pastor made five points that especially stood out to me.

A.  The pastor said that God has shown us love through Jesus Christ, and now it’s on us.  God has done all that God can do to show us God’s love.  It is now up to us to decide what to do in response to that.  We can disregard God’s grace and throw it to the side.  Or we can accept it and let it change us.

B.  The pastor said that God may be surprised by how we act.  God is surprised that we reject God’s love and grace.  To do so makes no sense.

C.  The pastor was talking about the Christmas card and the barn.  Both of these are literal, yet also symbolic.  The Christmas card represents the warm feelings that people have on Christmas.  Pictures on Christmas cards, even pictures that make no sense (such as a church surrounded by snow with no path to get to it), encourage a sense of warmth within people who see them.  The barn, on the other hand, represents the less pleasant aspects of life.  Mary had her baby in a barn, a place that was smelly and was not particularly clean or comfortable.  The pastor talked about the importance of balance: the Christmas card without the barn is problematic, but so is the barn without the Christmas card.  According to him, Mary and Joseph went through stressful and uncomfortable times as Mary was pregnant and having her baby, but they eventually arrived at some sense of calm, purpose, and warmth.

D.  Does God truly have free choice?  The pastor said that God is loving by nature—-as if God cannot help but love us.  Yet, the pastor was saying that God became incarnate in Jesus Christ even though God did not have to do so.  God expressly chose this path of identification with the human race.  The pastor also talked about the tension within Jesus’ will in the Garden of Gethsemane: Jesus did not want to die on the cross, but he voluntarily submitted to God.

E.  The pastor was presenting a definition or a conceptualization of God’s love, and it included God liking us.

Now, I’d like to offer my brief reactions to each point.

A.  I have often felt that God could do more to show his love for me concretely, to show me that he is and that he knows my address and loves me.  I am also skeptical about the idea so pervasive in evangelical circles that accepting and believing in God’s love can automatically transform a person, making that person more loving to others and more accepting.  Often, at least speaking for myself personally, there is a disconnect between head and heart, or between head and actions.  Even what I tell my head may not permeate it.  Plus, I struggle with whether the Bible and Christianity actually portray a God of unconditional love.  They do present God’s love, on some level, but they also seem to attach a lot of conditions!  But I need some foundation on which to build, and seeing God as loving is more constructive than not seeing God as loving.  Seeing God as loving is consistent with the Bible’s portrayal of God, for God in the Bible sent Jesus Christ to suffer and die for us, plus God patiently put up with people’s sins.

B.  Is God surprised by how we act?  On the one hand, there does seem to be bafflement on the part of God and Jesus.  In Micah 6:3-4, God asks sinful Israel how exactly God has burdened her, and he refers to the good things that God has done for Israel: the Exodus and sending Israel leaders.  God appears to be perplexed by how Israel is acting, especially after God’s benevolence and kindness towards her.  In Matthew 23:37 and Luke 13:34, Jesus laments that Jerusalem has stoned God’s messengers and has rejected Jesus’ offer (or God’s offer) to gather her as a hen gathers her chickens beneath her wings.

On the other hand, there are indications that Jesus was not particularly surprised by how people were receiving him.  Jesus even had an idea about why people were rejecting him.  In John 3:19-20, Jesus said that people were not coming to the light because their deeds were evil.

I know that I am afraid of coming to the light because my attitudes are evil.  I am afraid that people would judge me as petty, selfish, and unloving, or that I would feel compelled to do things that I cannot do, or may not even want to do.  The context in which one places that thought in John 3:19-20 is important and makes all the difference: one can put that within the context of God telling us that we suck, or one can put that within the context of God’s love.  Humans, including many Christians, will often do the former, at least when it comes to how they view other people’s sins: so-and-so is afraid of the light because that person sucks and is deficient in character, and that’s basically it!  Hopefully that is not how God approaches the situation!

C.  I do not have much to say about “C,” but it is a good insight.  I need the bad times to appreciate the good times.  Plus, I should not rest in my own good times while ignoring other people’s bad times.  Bad times may or may not be a part of God’s perfect will, but they are there.  They are a part of real life.  They should be acknowledged, but hope should be part of the equation somewhere in a person’s attitude.

D.  I have been reading John Frame’s A History of Western Philosophy and Theology (and I received a review copy through NetGalley, just to make that clear).  Frame talks about how different thinkers interacted with the question of whether God has free will.  Some believed that God did what was rational and could do no other.  Others thought that God’s choices are not determined by rationality and that God could do all sorts of things: that God could have done other than what God did.

I cannot say that I have arrived at a solution to this that satisfies me entirely.  That latter option, in which God has libertarian free will, does not set right for me because I cannot envision a choice having no basis in at least something.  I believe that, when God makes a decision, there is a reason for it, and God’s decision is not arbitrary, nor does it just pop into existence out of nowhere; it is motivated by something.  At the same time, I do believe that God can select among a variety of righteous options, that there is not just one righteous or rational path that God by nature has to follow.

E.  I know that I often try to justify myself, from a Christian or ethical standpoint, by saying: “I love so-and-so, but I do not like so-and-so.”  Often, I say that even though I cannot stand so-and-so and my stomach churns when I think about so-and-so!  Some well-meaning Christians—-the ones who do not tell me that I suck—-may try to reassure me by saying that God loves everyone, but God does not like everyone.  There may be something to that.  Personally speaking, I would not feel good if God loved me but did not like me.  Can I view others as I would like God to view me?  Not really.  I can try to see the good in other people, but, again, the head does not always reach the heart.  What I tell the head does not even penetrate the head!  What can I do but go to God in prayer about this?

Ramblings on Ethics, the Golden Rule, and Moral Absolutes

In this post, I would like to use as my starting-point something that Brian Morley says on page 323 of his book, Mapping Apologetics.  Morley is profiling the thoughts of Christian apologist John Warwick Montgomery, and the topic is the attempt to find some authoritative basis for ethics and morality.  Montgomery grounds ethics and morality in God and critiques philosophical proposals that ground them in something else.

Morley says:

“One of the best-known attempts to ground law in modern times was provided by John Rawls (1921-2002), who echoed Immanuel Kant’s maxim to accept as law only what we could wish everyone would do (which Montgomery finds too vague; someone, such as a sadomasochist, might wish everyone behaved the way he does).”

Here are some thoughts:

1.  The reason that this passage stood out to me is that it reminded me of a conversation that I had several years ago.  I heard a lecture from a liberal New Testament professor, and this professor said that a critique could be made of the Golden Rule: “Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them” (Matthew 7:12 KJV).  The professor said, “Suppose that a person is a sadomasochist?  In that case, doing to others what he wants others to do to him would not help others.”

I told this to a fellow student and colleague who was an evangelical, and he thought that was absurd.  “If someone made that point at the school that I attended before coming here, people would have laughed it off as stupid.  But a professor makes that point here, and it’s considered profound.  Of course Jesus didn’t have in mind a sadomasochist!”

It was interesting to me, therefore, to read a Christian apologist making a similar point to what that professor said, only the apologist was critiquing Rawls and Kant, not the Golden Rule.
Item 1 here will actually be a starting-point for many of the following items.

2.  Sometimes, a point can be good, but it falls flat because it is not made elegantly.  I remember having a discussion at a church that I attended several years ago.  We were talking about whether God has free will—-is God so righteous in God’s nature that God is unable to do wrong, and thus lacks free will?  The people in the discussion were agreeing that human beings have free will.  “Can God give what God does not have?”, somebody asked.  The pastor thought that was a profound question.  I, too, thought that it was a good question, but I could think of examples of God giving things that God himself did not possess, or that were not characteristic of God himself.  I raised the point that God gave a tree bark, yet God himself does not have bark, and thus God can give what God does not have.  People did not take that point seriously and probably thought that it was silly.  I still think that I was making a valid point, but I will admit that perhaps I did not package it that well.  I am not sure how I could have packaged it instead so it would not have fallen flat.  Perhaps I could have firmly reiterated my point: “My point is that there are plenty of examples of God giving people what God does not have, what is not characteristic of God himself.”

3.  In reading Morley’s book, Morley talks about some issues that a number of people may consider to be silly.  On page 121, Morley is talking about the thoughts of Christian apologist Alvin Plantinga, and he says in a footnote: “In an autobiographical chapter, Plantinga notes, amusingly, that when his wife heard his thesis that belief in God and belief in other minds are ‘in the same epistemological boat,’ she thought it ‘was one of the sillier things she had heard.’…But in the field of religious epistemology, it was taken quite seriously.”

Just to give you a little background information without going too much on a tangent, Plantinga was saying that we are as justified to believe in God as we are justified to believe that there are other people with other minds—-that we are not alone.  We cannot disprove that our brains are in a vat and the outside world is an illusion, yet we go through life assuming that the outside world is real.  Similarly, for Plantinga, one can be justified in believing in God.  This whole “brain in a vat” deal may sound absurd to a lot of people, but it has actually been taken seriously throughout the course of centuries of philosophy: Can we know that the world outside of us is real?

I think of another thinker Morley discusses, even though Morley does not devote an entire chapter to him.  His name is Edmund Gettier. Gettier was afraid that he had not published enough to get tenure, then he went on to make a significant contribution to epistemology.  My understanding of his contribution is that he was asking this: Suppose a person securely believes something that is true, but for a wrong reason?  Does that count as actual knowledge?  (See here for more information.)  To a lot of people, that may not sound particularly profound, important, or practical; it may sound to them like nitpicking; they may equate it with talking about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, or asking if God can make a stone so big and heavy that God cannot lift it.  But, to a philosophical academic community that is inquiring whether there is a secure foundation for knowledge, Gettier’s question is important.

4.  It is possible to play “devil’s advocate” to death, to ask so many questions and thereby to get rid of any foundations on which one can build, which is not particularly edifying.  I remember a student who had this sort of frustration with a class that he was taking.  Eventually, students can get so annoyed with someone asking, “What about this?” and “What about this?”, that they tune the annoying student out.  But suppose the class itself is promoting destabilization?  A student who believes there are answers may be looking to a professor to provide solid answers, or to reinforce the answers that the student already believes, or at least not to argue that there is no meaning in the universe and to offer some reliable foundation that goes somewhere productive, and the student walks away disappointed.

5.  Back to the student I mention in Item 1, yeah, bringing up sadomasochism in discussing the Golden Rule may sound silly.  But to a person seeking to articulate or to find an air-tight foundation for moral values that covers as many bases as possible, such a critique of the Golden Rule, Kant, and Rawls may not sound so silly.  Still, I can identify with what that student was saying.  Jesus did not have sadomasochism in mind when he articulated the Golden Rule.  Jesus was assuming that people desire their own well-being, and that his audience shared that assumption.  I am for treating the words of Jesus charitably, and I would not say that the question of “What about sadomasochists?” totally destroys the Golden Rule as a valid ethical norm for life, generally speaking.  Still, even putting aside sadomasochism, there are people who are not sadomasochists yet desire things for themselves that are not particularly good or healthy—-drugs, illicit sex, etc.  The Golden Rule may be a generally good rule, but it needs qualifications and footnotes, and cannot by itself serve as an exhaustive criterion for ethics.  That could be why the Bible does not just have the Golden Rule; it also presents examples and commands of doing good to others, and avoiding the doing of harm to others.

6.  Montgomery finds a lot of attempts to define or ground ethics apart from God to be inadequate or unrealistic.  Saying that we should seek the greatest good for the greatest number (utilitarianism) or natural law, for Montgomery, does not adequately specify what is right and what is wrong.  Rawls’ view that people in designing a society should ask what it would be like for them to be the vulnerable ones and thereby construct a fair society is, for Montgomery, rather unrealistic, for people probably will not do that.  I have two responses to that.  First of all, while Montgomery does well to critique proposals that have been made in attempts to define or provide a foundation for morality, I do not agree with him that his own Christian model is air-tight and problem-free, especially since the Bible contains things (i.e., slavery) that understandably trouble a lot of people, from an ethical standpoint.  (I have not read Montgomery himself, however, but only Morley’s chapter about his thought, so perhaps Montgomery does interact with this issue, or there is more to his thought than I think.)  Second, regarding Montgomery’s critique of Rawls, sure, people may not follow what Rawls suggests.  That does not invalidate what Rawls is saying.  Montgomery admits that there are Christians who do not follow Christian ethics, yet Montgomery does not believe that invalidates Christian ethics, or nullifies them as a sufficient criterion for how to live.

7.  I have wrestled with the question of moral absolutes before.  Can we safely say that there are moral absolutes, when there are different cultures with different values, and when people in the past did not see things as many see them now?  I believe that there are moral absolutes—-which is not to say that I do not recognize situational ethics in certain cases, but rather that I believe that deliberately trying to harm another person is wrong.  In saying that we have grown from where we have been, or that one culture may be morally advanced above another culture in areas (and vice versa), I obviously do have a standard of what counts as right and advanced, so I am not a complete relativist (though I also back away from imperialism as a solution).  In some cases, moral advancement can be based on advancement in knowledge: a society may learn the value of treating people well, or realize that people it once stereotyped as inferiors are actually not inferiors.  Is this a sufficient foundation for morality?  Probably not.  It is still where I am on moral absolutes.

UPDATE: This is not my official review, but I should probably mention that I received this book as a complimentary review copy from Intervarsity Press, in exchange for an honest review.