Posts
Wes Daughenbaugh. 21 Ways to Forgive: Plus Nine Reasons We Must Forgive. Redemption Press, 2016. See here to buy the book.
Wes Daughenbaugh is a teacher and an evangelist, whose ordination is
with the Assemblies of God. In this book, Daughenbaugh presents nine
reasons that people must forgive, followed by 21 suggested ways to
forgive. There are illustrations throughout the book that have a Mad Magazine sort of style.
The assets of the book are many. The illustrations help drive home
Daughenbaugh’s points. The book also has stories in which Daughenbaugh
demonstrates that he knows of what he speaks from personal experience
and struggle. The insights make sense. They encourage people to move
on from bitterness, to do good to others so as to have other memories
besides negative ones, and to hope that God will use the offender for
God’s benevolent purposes, as God used the apostle Paul, who had
persecuted Christians.
Overall, the book backs up its insights with Scripture. There are
biblical passages that discuss the health benefits of having a positive
attitude rather than an attitude of envy and bitterness, and passages
that encourage people to put away bitterness. One of Daughenbaugh’s
thoughts was uncomfortable, yet he did cite Scripture in support of it:
he said that unforgiveness could land a person in hell, citing Matthew
18:21-35 for support. In some cases, Daughenbaugh made somewhat of a
leap, even though aspects of his point are plausible, from a Scriptural
perspective. I think of his recurring argument that our pain is
treasured in heaven, and God may draw from that deposit to show mercy to
the offender or the offender’s descendants, such that the offender can
bless others. I can think of no Scripture that explicitly presents that
scenario, but the apostle Paul is an example of a wrongdoer whom God
used to bless others. (Daughenbaugh also acknowledges that God may send
judgment.) Sometimes, Daughenbaugh does not support his thoughts with
Scripture but rather with anecdote: he says, for example, that we should
not rebuke the devil because that could draw demons to us.
There were cases in which Daughenbaugh offered an interpretation of
Scripture that was new to me. For instance, according to Daughenbaugh,
when Paul said in Philippians 3:10-11 that he wants to be like Christ in
his death, he meant that he wanted to die “without angerness,
bitterness, or self-pity.”
Daughenbaugh writes from a certain perspective, one that is
charismatic. He believes that God has spoken to his heart, offering him
guidance and insights in certain situations. He also seems to believe
in temporal blessings and curses, on some level, which are related to
forgiveness and unforgiveness. (At least that was my impression, and I
am open to correction.) That made the book interesting to read, even if
I am unsure about the extent to which I agree or disagree. Granted,
Jesus does appear to connect the faith that moves mountains with
forgiveness in Mark 11:22-26. There are passages in the New Testament
epistles about bitterness being conducive to Satan’s activity, and about
the devil somehow influencing or working in people. But I wonder if
there are other (or additional) ways to interpret those passages than
what Daughenbaugh presents.
In terms of suggestions that I have, the book did omit an aspect of
interpersonal forgiveness that occurs in Scripture, and that is
confrontation of the offender (see Leviticus 19:17; Matthew 18:15).
Daughenbaugh did well to highlight Scriptures that exhort people not to
start quarrels or to insult others (i.e., Proverbs 17:14; Ephesians
4:29), and, indeed, that raises an important question: How can we rebuke
without telling a person off? Daughenbaugh should have wrestled with
this question. To his credit, he did present ways to develop an
attitude of love and compassion towards the person who offended. But
there are cases in which a person may be nice and helpful towards a
person, while hating that person inside of his or her heart, making the
outward love fake. In such cases, confrontation may be helpful and
healing, provided it is done right.
Another suggestion: Daughenbaugh should have offered some suggestions
about how a hurt person can go out and love and help others. That is
not intuitive to everybody. At the same time, Daughenbaugh did tell a
good story about how this particular insight (i.e., spiritual warfare by
loving others) worked in his own life.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Bookcrash. My review is honest!
Friday, September 29, 2017
Wednesday, September 27, 2017
Book Write-Up: The Proving, by Beverly Lewis
Beverly Lewis. The Proving. Bethany House, 2017. See here to buy the book.
Amanda (or Mandy) Dienner grew up in an Amish family in Lancaster County. She had a twin sister, Arie Mae, and a brother, Jerome. Mandy had a boyfriend, Josiah, and Mandy caught Josiah kissing Arie Mae. Mandy is devastated and leaves Lancaster County to live as an Englisher (a non-Amish person). After five years, Mandy learns that her mother has passed on and has bequeathed to Mandy the popular bed-and-breakfast. Mandy wonders why it was not left to Arie Mae, who was more involved in running it. Mandy returns to Lancaster County but has to become accustomed once more to Amish ways, while dealing with her estrangement from her family.
Catrina (or Trina) Sutton is a twenty-five year old woman who alienates people through her blunt speaking. Trina leaves the nursing-home business to do home care, and she connects with an elderly woman named Gail. Trina is also coping with the death of her fiancee in an automobile accident a year before. Trina accepts a mystery vacation and ends up at Mandy’s bed-and-breakfast. The two initially do not get along: Trina was not expecting to be in Amish country, and Mandy, like many, is turned off by Trina’s bluntness.
I have read Beverly Lewis’ more recent novels over the past two years, and I ordinarily give them three or four stars. She is a sophisticated writer, but her stories do not always make a connection with me, and some plot-lines seem to be thrown into the stories just for the sake of throwing them into the stories. This book made more of a connection with me, however, as it dealt with such themes as alienation, estrangement, and reconciliation. The background information was endearing, too: the description of the breakfasts served at the bed-and-breakfast and how Mandy’s mother regarded the place as a ministry, and the description of the family, as Mandy’s father liked to read the Psalms after an especially hard day of work. The scene in which Mandy honestly prays to God about her struggle to forgive her sister and tolerate Trina is also poignant. Perhaps one could say that the book sometimes told more than showed, particularly when Josiah tells Mandy how much Arie Mae missed her. But that scene was still moving and, in its own way, emotional, and the characters were believable.
The book would have been better had it explored in more detail Mandy’s estrangement from Amish culture and her adaptation to “English” ways, as that would have amplified Mandy’s tension over whether to sell the bed-and-breakfast or stay in Lancaster County. Still, the book was more effective in describing Mandy’s apprehensions about being back in Lancaster County, and when they did and did not accord with reality.
Also, the book could have been better had Mandy helped Trina to heal. The book was somewhat one-sided: Trina was somewhat of a therapist to Mandy, but I cannot recall Mandy offering Trina sound advice (though maybe she did so in the prayer scene, albeit accidentally). Trina’s problems were solved through romance, and, while the romance was charming (it was an opposites-attract sort of romance), more attention should have been paid to Trina’s healing.
The book was enjoyable to read, though, on account of its heavy style and the themes that it addressed.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Amanda (or Mandy) Dienner grew up in an Amish family in Lancaster County. She had a twin sister, Arie Mae, and a brother, Jerome. Mandy had a boyfriend, Josiah, and Mandy caught Josiah kissing Arie Mae. Mandy is devastated and leaves Lancaster County to live as an Englisher (a non-Amish person). After five years, Mandy learns that her mother has passed on and has bequeathed to Mandy the popular bed-and-breakfast. Mandy wonders why it was not left to Arie Mae, who was more involved in running it. Mandy returns to Lancaster County but has to become accustomed once more to Amish ways, while dealing with her estrangement from her family.
Catrina (or Trina) Sutton is a twenty-five year old woman who alienates people through her blunt speaking. Trina leaves the nursing-home business to do home care, and she connects with an elderly woman named Gail. Trina is also coping with the death of her fiancee in an automobile accident a year before. Trina accepts a mystery vacation and ends up at Mandy’s bed-and-breakfast. The two initially do not get along: Trina was not expecting to be in Amish country, and Mandy, like many, is turned off by Trina’s bluntness.
I have read Beverly Lewis’ more recent novels over the past two years, and I ordinarily give them three or four stars. She is a sophisticated writer, but her stories do not always make a connection with me, and some plot-lines seem to be thrown into the stories just for the sake of throwing them into the stories. This book made more of a connection with me, however, as it dealt with such themes as alienation, estrangement, and reconciliation. The background information was endearing, too: the description of the breakfasts served at the bed-and-breakfast and how Mandy’s mother regarded the place as a ministry, and the description of the family, as Mandy’s father liked to read the Psalms after an especially hard day of work. The scene in which Mandy honestly prays to God about her struggle to forgive her sister and tolerate Trina is also poignant. Perhaps one could say that the book sometimes told more than showed, particularly when Josiah tells Mandy how much Arie Mae missed her. But that scene was still moving and, in its own way, emotional, and the characters were believable.
The book would have been better had it explored in more detail Mandy’s estrangement from Amish culture and her adaptation to “English” ways, as that would have amplified Mandy’s tension over whether to sell the bed-and-breakfast or stay in Lancaster County. Still, the book was more effective in describing Mandy’s apprehensions about being back in Lancaster County, and when they did and did not accord with reality.
Also, the book could have been better had Mandy helped Trina to heal. The book was somewhat one-sided: Trina was somewhat of a therapist to Mandy, but I cannot recall Mandy offering Trina sound advice (though maybe she did so in the prayer scene, albeit accidentally). Trina’s problems were solved through romance, and, while the romance was charming (it was an opposites-attract sort of romance), more attention should have been paid to Trina’s healing.
The book was enjoyable to read, though, on account of its heavy style and the themes that it addressed.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Monday, September 25, 2017
Church Write-Up: "Idols," the Right Fire Hydrant, and the Hebrew Bible Pointing to Christ
Last Sunday, I attended two church services. The first service was
at what I have called, correctly or incorrectly, the “Word of Faith”
church; some weeks the label fits because it has prosperity teaching,
and some weeks the label does not fit because it delivers the opposite
of prosperity teaching. The second service was at a Missouri Synod
Lutheran church.
I will discuss both services. Then, I will offer some responses.
A. The pastor at the “Word of Faith” church has been going through the Elijah story. His message last Sunday was that we should be most passionate about God—-not celebrity (i.e., being celebrated by others), social and economic status, being countercultural and independent (this church is close to Portland), sports, or TV. None of these things are wrong, he said, but we should be most passionate about God, rather than letting these other things consume us. These are false gods when we make an idol of them, and they will not answer us in time of trouble; God, however, will answer those who are sold out to God. But how do we identify the true God? For one, the pastor said, the true God will put us in situations in which we desperately need God. Second, in the same way that the fire from heaven in the Elijah story struck the altar and not the sinful Israelites, so did the true God punish Jesus for our sins.
Overall, it was a Tim Keller-esque sort of message. In fact, the pastor showed us a brief clip of Tim Keller. Tim Keller said in the clip that, if we make success the source of our identity, worth, and happiness, then we will work a lot. In the process, we may neglect relationships with family and friends and, thus, opportunities to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit. We may even find ourselves compromising moral principles in our pursuit of success—-by lying, for example.
The pastor also referred to something that his son-in-law said that resonated with him. The son-in-law likened Christians having the Holy Spirit to being connected to a fire hydrant. The righteous sentiments are there in Christians because they are connected to Christ, but they do not always flow out of the Christians, providing the motivations for the Christians’ actions. The pastor (at the “Word of Faith” church, not Tim Keller) mentioned the current controversy about the football players not standing for the national anthem. The pastor acknowledged that this country has its share of abuses, but he speculated that the football player who refused to stand did so because he desired attention and celebrity. Many who stand for the anthem, however, may themselves have an improper motivation, the pastor said: they honor America because it has been the source of their financial prosperity. The pastor shared that, as one who tries to be connected to the right fire hydrant (Jesus), he has another motivation for standing for the national anthem: because God in Romans 13 commands Christians to respect and honor the governing authorities.
B. At the Missouri Synod Lutheran church, the service was about the Scriptures being about Jesus. The youth pastor was talking about how many characters in the Old Testament, who were righteous and talked with God, nevertheless sinned. The point of the Old Testament was to show that we are sinners who need Jesus. The pastor in the sermon made similar points. He asked what the points of the Samson and Jephthah stories are: why were they included in the Bible? He also talked about how the Pharisees saw the Bible primarily as a rule book: do these rules, and you will gain eternal life. Jesus, by contrast, was trying to show them that the Scriptures pointed to him: they promised a Messiah, and they showed that people were sinners in need of a savior.
The worship service was especially powerful. I was particularly moved by the song “Death Was Arrested,” by North Point InsideOut. “Oh, your grace SO FREE, washes OVER ME…” When the song was over, there was a brief time of solemn silence. I haven’t had this powerful a worship experience since I was in college.
This was also the first time at this church that I went forward for communion. This is a Missouri Synod Lutheran church, which means that communion is closed. I do not know what I need to do to receive communion at this church, so, most weeks, I stayed in my pew when people went up for communion. The bulletin said that those who choose not to partake of communion can go up, cross their arms over their chest, and receive a blessing, and that is what I did. The pastor gave people bread, then he made the sign of the cross over my forehead, then he distributed bread to the next person. No major awkwardness there!
C. I used to be inspired by the Tim Keller sorts of sermons. Nowadays, I am not as much, though, don’t get me wrong, I do prefer them to legalistic messages, or “You need to go and reach out to other people” messages. Tim Keller-esque messages are like comforting “God loves you” sermons, in their own way.
Where I think they are useful is that they do highlight the potential dangers of being obsessed with certain things, like fame or financial success. I had some difficulty with what Tim Keller said about an intense desire for success compromising friendships. I do not have a good track record with friendships, so my instinct, of course, is to pursue success over being with other people, who may not even like me (and vice versa) down the road. But I would not want to find myself lying or being a bad person on my attempted road to success.
I have problems rooting my sense of identity and worth in God. The reason is that, in my opinion, Scripture seems to present God as conditionally loving. The biblical passages that continually loom in my mind are the ones that say that God will not forgive us if we do not forgive others. I have difficulty loving a God who has that as a policy.
In terms of my passions, I would say that I have a balance in my life. I have a devotional life. I read the Bible and other religious literature, ancient and modern. I pray. But I also work on my dissertation. I watch shows that I enjoy. I do not want to agonize over whether I love God more or less than these things. God is there in my life, and I enjoy those things. Those things may even be a part of my devotion to God, yet that does not mean that I conform my scholarship to a Christian agenda, or try to interpret the shows that I watch through a rigid Christian grid. The shows teach lessons about life, love, and the attempts of flawed human beings to make their way through a flawed world. That overlaps with what Christianity talks about, and I acknowledge that, but I do not try to be heavy-handed when I look at shows in reference to Christianity.
On the Missouri Synod Lutheran service, seeing the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible as a precursor to Jesus Christ, of course, runs contrary to the historical-critical approach to the Hebrew Bible that I have learned. The pastors’ statement that the Old Testament saints were sinners is tempting to believe, and I do not necessarily dismiss it, but I am interested in how historical-critics would address such a motif: why would the biblical writers portray people as making mistakes? And how does that compare with other ancient literature? A passage that comes to my mind is Genesis 20:13, in which Abraham tells Abimelech that his custom is to claim that his wife Sarah is his sister. Many evangelicals maintain that Abraham claiming that Sarah was his sister was a good example of the flaws of Old Testament saints: Abraham was lying, after all, and lying is a sin. What Genesis 20:13 seems to show, though, is that it never dawned on Abraham that such a practice was even wrong. It was his custom to do this. That makes me wonder: were the biblical authors writing the wife-sister narratives to show that Abraham was a sinner, in need of a Savior? Or was there another reason?
I think, however, of the John MacArthur sermon that I heard a few Sundays ago, in which MacArthur said that God’s moral will may have been ambiguous prior to the Torah. That may be a stretch: God punished the earth with the Flood, and Sodom and Gomorrah with fire and brimstone from heaven, due to their sins. God had some moral law prior to the Torah. But there may be something to MacArthur’s speculation: maybe Abraham did not fully know that lying was wrong.
I’ll stop here.
I will discuss both services. Then, I will offer some responses.
A. The pastor at the “Word of Faith” church has been going through the Elijah story. His message last Sunday was that we should be most passionate about God—-not celebrity (i.e., being celebrated by others), social and economic status, being countercultural and independent (this church is close to Portland), sports, or TV. None of these things are wrong, he said, but we should be most passionate about God, rather than letting these other things consume us. These are false gods when we make an idol of them, and they will not answer us in time of trouble; God, however, will answer those who are sold out to God. But how do we identify the true God? For one, the pastor said, the true God will put us in situations in which we desperately need God. Second, in the same way that the fire from heaven in the Elijah story struck the altar and not the sinful Israelites, so did the true God punish Jesus for our sins.
Overall, it was a Tim Keller-esque sort of message. In fact, the pastor showed us a brief clip of Tim Keller. Tim Keller said in the clip that, if we make success the source of our identity, worth, and happiness, then we will work a lot. In the process, we may neglect relationships with family and friends and, thus, opportunities to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit. We may even find ourselves compromising moral principles in our pursuit of success—-by lying, for example.
The pastor also referred to something that his son-in-law said that resonated with him. The son-in-law likened Christians having the Holy Spirit to being connected to a fire hydrant. The righteous sentiments are there in Christians because they are connected to Christ, but they do not always flow out of the Christians, providing the motivations for the Christians’ actions. The pastor (at the “Word of Faith” church, not Tim Keller) mentioned the current controversy about the football players not standing for the national anthem. The pastor acknowledged that this country has its share of abuses, but he speculated that the football player who refused to stand did so because he desired attention and celebrity. Many who stand for the anthem, however, may themselves have an improper motivation, the pastor said: they honor America because it has been the source of their financial prosperity. The pastor shared that, as one who tries to be connected to the right fire hydrant (Jesus), he has another motivation for standing for the national anthem: because God in Romans 13 commands Christians to respect and honor the governing authorities.
B. At the Missouri Synod Lutheran church, the service was about the Scriptures being about Jesus. The youth pastor was talking about how many characters in the Old Testament, who were righteous and talked with God, nevertheless sinned. The point of the Old Testament was to show that we are sinners who need Jesus. The pastor in the sermon made similar points. He asked what the points of the Samson and Jephthah stories are: why were they included in the Bible? He also talked about how the Pharisees saw the Bible primarily as a rule book: do these rules, and you will gain eternal life. Jesus, by contrast, was trying to show them that the Scriptures pointed to him: they promised a Messiah, and they showed that people were sinners in need of a savior.
The worship service was especially powerful. I was particularly moved by the song “Death Was Arrested,” by North Point InsideOut. “Oh, your grace SO FREE, washes OVER ME…” When the song was over, there was a brief time of solemn silence. I haven’t had this powerful a worship experience since I was in college.
This was also the first time at this church that I went forward for communion. This is a Missouri Synod Lutheran church, which means that communion is closed. I do not know what I need to do to receive communion at this church, so, most weeks, I stayed in my pew when people went up for communion. The bulletin said that those who choose not to partake of communion can go up, cross their arms over their chest, and receive a blessing, and that is what I did. The pastor gave people bread, then he made the sign of the cross over my forehead, then he distributed bread to the next person. No major awkwardness there!
C. I used to be inspired by the Tim Keller sorts of sermons. Nowadays, I am not as much, though, don’t get me wrong, I do prefer them to legalistic messages, or “You need to go and reach out to other people” messages. Tim Keller-esque messages are like comforting “God loves you” sermons, in their own way.
Where I think they are useful is that they do highlight the potential dangers of being obsessed with certain things, like fame or financial success. I had some difficulty with what Tim Keller said about an intense desire for success compromising friendships. I do not have a good track record with friendships, so my instinct, of course, is to pursue success over being with other people, who may not even like me (and vice versa) down the road. But I would not want to find myself lying or being a bad person on my attempted road to success.
I have problems rooting my sense of identity and worth in God. The reason is that, in my opinion, Scripture seems to present God as conditionally loving. The biblical passages that continually loom in my mind are the ones that say that God will not forgive us if we do not forgive others. I have difficulty loving a God who has that as a policy.
In terms of my passions, I would say that I have a balance in my life. I have a devotional life. I read the Bible and other religious literature, ancient and modern. I pray. But I also work on my dissertation. I watch shows that I enjoy. I do not want to agonize over whether I love God more or less than these things. God is there in my life, and I enjoy those things. Those things may even be a part of my devotion to God, yet that does not mean that I conform my scholarship to a Christian agenda, or try to interpret the shows that I watch through a rigid Christian grid. The shows teach lessons about life, love, and the attempts of flawed human beings to make their way through a flawed world. That overlaps with what Christianity talks about, and I acknowledge that, but I do not try to be heavy-handed when I look at shows in reference to Christianity.
On the Missouri Synod Lutheran service, seeing the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible as a precursor to Jesus Christ, of course, runs contrary to the historical-critical approach to the Hebrew Bible that I have learned. The pastors’ statement that the Old Testament saints were sinners is tempting to believe, and I do not necessarily dismiss it, but I am interested in how historical-critics would address such a motif: why would the biblical writers portray people as making mistakes? And how does that compare with other ancient literature? A passage that comes to my mind is Genesis 20:13, in which Abraham tells Abimelech that his custom is to claim that his wife Sarah is his sister. Many evangelicals maintain that Abraham claiming that Sarah was his sister was a good example of the flaws of Old Testament saints: Abraham was lying, after all, and lying is a sin. What Genesis 20:13 seems to show, though, is that it never dawned on Abraham that such a practice was even wrong. It was his custom to do this. That makes me wonder: were the biblical authors writing the wife-sister narratives to show that Abraham was a sinner, in need of a Savior? Or was there another reason?
I think, however, of the John MacArthur sermon that I heard a few Sundays ago, in which MacArthur said that God’s moral will may have been ambiguous prior to the Torah. That may be a stretch: God punished the earth with the Flood, and Sodom and Gomorrah with fire and brimstone from heaven, due to their sins. God had some moral law prior to the Torah. But there may be something to MacArthur’s speculation: maybe Abraham did not fully know that lying was wrong.
I’ll stop here.
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Book Write-Up: Our Deepest Desires
Gregory E. Ganssle. Our Deepest Desires: How the Christian Story Fulfills Human Aspirations. IVP Academic, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
Gregory E. Ganssle teaches philosophy at Talbot School of Theology, which is at Biola University. Ganssle articulates his goal in Our Deepest Desires on page 135: “I set out to make the case that the Christian story grounds and explains the things we care about most.” Such things include life’s purpose, the human desire for relationships, morality, and beauty.
Ganssle’s philosophical training is evident throughout this book, as he engages the thoughts of Bertrand Russell, John Stuart Mill, Sartre, Plato, Nietzsche, and Hume. Ganssle also discusses postmodernism. His explanation of their thoughts is clear. I especially appreciated his discussion of Sartre’s view that human existence precedes essence: that we were not created to be a certain way, but we get to define what our essence is. Ganssle, of course, disagrees with that view, but the view has a certain attraction to it, as long as it is not taken too far. Speaking of that, I wondered if Sartre, Nietzsche, and Hume believed in at least some moral boundaries. You would expect most humans to do so. Occasionally, Ganssle mentioned considerations that may indicate that some of these thinkers drew the line somewhere, but the broad thrust of his discussion communicated that they were not too keen on moral boundaries. Sartre was against others telling people what their essence should be, Nietzsche regarded conventional (and Christian) morality as weakness and detrimental to human self-fulfillment, and Hume was skeptical of the existence of moral facts.
Ganssle sometimes employed philosophical argumentation, as when he argued against the view that evolution was sufficient to account for the human love for goodness. One can argue that human morality evolved as a way to help humans survive, since cooperation is conducive to survival. This makes some sense, but Ganssle does well to ask if a mere desire to survive accounts for the love for goodness and heroism that many people possess.
The book also had winsome reflections and anecdotes. Ganssle shared his love for reading, saying that he reads Jane Austen, C.S. Lewis, Tolkein, and Walker Percy every two or three years. He also talked about how many people (himself included) do not enjoy being criticized: they want truth, but not the criticism that can lead them in that direction. That resonates!
A criticism that I had through much of the book was that it did not appear to acknowledge suffering. Ganssle was saying that there are more good things than bad things in life, but is that true for everyone? Ganssle talked about the importance of relationships, but what about those who have difficulty forming and sustaining them? The book perhaps would have been better had it engaged the problem of suffering more. This is not to imply that Ganssle should radically change his thesis: people in the Third World, to use an example, do enjoy the goodness of life. But they also experience intense suffering, and Ganssle’s discussion of the goodness of the world is incomplete because he does not really engage that. Near the end of the book, there was more discussion about suffering and human mortality. It was thoughtful, but even that discussion seemed to reflect a First World perspective (not that Ganssle can change his perspective, but there are other perspectives out there).
Ganssle talks about how God can spend an eternity helping people to develop character, so it is never too late to begin. That is a profound concept. I wonder, though, if it is consistent with prominent strands of conservative Christianity—-the types that assume that Christians become morally perfect once they enter heaven.
Also, I was curious about how hell would fit into Ganssle’s thesis. One can argue that what Ganssle says about humanity’s deepest desires is not irreconcilable with the existence of hell. Perhaps. But why would God create so many human beings with desires that God can fulfill, if God’s purpose was to damn most of them to hell, because they left this earth before embracing a particular religion?
Does Christianity contribute to human flourishing? Ganssle contends that it does, and, in certain respects, he is probably correct: Christianity gives people hope, a basis for morality, and motivations for philanthropy. Obviously, some of the thinkers Ganssle discusses had a different view, seeing Christianity as detrimental towards human flourishing. Maybe they went too far in their assessment. But one can ask: Can homosexuals flourish when they cannot have a lifelong relationship with someone of their own gender, due to the will of the conservative Christian God? Do certain conservative Christian ideas about sex—-specifically those that act as if people should not have sexual desire until they are married—-contribute to human flourishing? The other extreme—-promiscuity—-contributes to its share of problems, but are not certain conservative Christian ideas themselves problematic in terms of helping people to arrive at happiness?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Gregory E. Ganssle teaches philosophy at Talbot School of Theology, which is at Biola University. Ganssle articulates his goal in Our Deepest Desires on page 135: “I set out to make the case that the Christian story grounds and explains the things we care about most.” Such things include life’s purpose, the human desire for relationships, morality, and beauty.
Ganssle’s philosophical training is evident throughout this book, as he engages the thoughts of Bertrand Russell, John Stuart Mill, Sartre, Plato, Nietzsche, and Hume. Ganssle also discusses postmodernism. His explanation of their thoughts is clear. I especially appreciated his discussion of Sartre’s view that human existence precedes essence: that we were not created to be a certain way, but we get to define what our essence is. Ganssle, of course, disagrees with that view, but the view has a certain attraction to it, as long as it is not taken too far. Speaking of that, I wondered if Sartre, Nietzsche, and Hume believed in at least some moral boundaries. You would expect most humans to do so. Occasionally, Ganssle mentioned considerations that may indicate that some of these thinkers drew the line somewhere, but the broad thrust of his discussion communicated that they were not too keen on moral boundaries. Sartre was against others telling people what their essence should be, Nietzsche regarded conventional (and Christian) morality as weakness and detrimental to human self-fulfillment, and Hume was skeptical of the existence of moral facts.
Ganssle sometimes employed philosophical argumentation, as when he argued against the view that evolution was sufficient to account for the human love for goodness. One can argue that human morality evolved as a way to help humans survive, since cooperation is conducive to survival. This makes some sense, but Ganssle does well to ask if a mere desire to survive accounts for the love for goodness and heroism that many people possess.
The book also had winsome reflections and anecdotes. Ganssle shared his love for reading, saying that he reads Jane Austen, C.S. Lewis, Tolkein, and Walker Percy every two or three years. He also talked about how many people (himself included) do not enjoy being criticized: they want truth, but not the criticism that can lead them in that direction. That resonates!
A criticism that I had through much of the book was that it did not appear to acknowledge suffering. Ganssle was saying that there are more good things than bad things in life, but is that true for everyone? Ganssle talked about the importance of relationships, but what about those who have difficulty forming and sustaining them? The book perhaps would have been better had it engaged the problem of suffering more. This is not to imply that Ganssle should radically change his thesis: people in the Third World, to use an example, do enjoy the goodness of life. But they also experience intense suffering, and Ganssle’s discussion of the goodness of the world is incomplete because he does not really engage that. Near the end of the book, there was more discussion about suffering and human mortality. It was thoughtful, but even that discussion seemed to reflect a First World perspective (not that Ganssle can change his perspective, but there are other perspectives out there).
Ganssle talks about how God can spend an eternity helping people to develop character, so it is never too late to begin. That is a profound concept. I wonder, though, if it is consistent with prominent strands of conservative Christianity—-the types that assume that Christians become morally perfect once they enter heaven.
Also, I was curious about how hell would fit into Ganssle’s thesis. One can argue that what Ganssle says about humanity’s deepest desires is not irreconcilable with the existence of hell. Perhaps. But why would God create so many human beings with desires that God can fulfill, if God’s purpose was to damn most of them to hell, because they left this earth before embracing a particular religion?
Does Christianity contribute to human flourishing? Ganssle contends that it does, and, in certain respects, he is probably correct: Christianity gives people hope, a basis for morality, and motivations for philanthropy. Obviously, some of the thinkers Ganssle discusses had a different view, seeing Christianity as detrimental towards human flourishing. Maybe they went too far in their assessment. But one can ask: Can homosexuals flourish when they cannot have a lifelong relationship with someone of their own gender, due to the will of the conservative Christian God? Do certain conservative Christian ideas about sex—-specifically those that act as if people should not have sexual desire until they are married—-contribute to human flourishing? The other extreme—-promiscuity—-contributes to its share of problems, but are not certain conservative Christian ideas themselves problematic in terms of helping people to arrive at happiness?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Book Write-Up: Institutional Intelligence
Gordon T. Smith. Institutional Intelligence: How to Build an Effective Organization. IVP Academic, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
Institutional Intelligence is about how to run an institution. Such institutions include non-profits and churches, but author Gordon T. Smith focuses largely on Christian academia, since that is where he is especially experienced. Smith discusses the importance of having a clear mission for the institution, listening to one’s board, taking into consideration the interests of the stakeholders, and having a budget that is not only balanced but also accomplishes something. He offers advice on the type of people to hire, how to raise money, things to consider when merging with another institution, and how to design the building such that it conveys a welcoming and spiritually-appropriate message.
At times, Smith comments on Christian spirituality, since his focus is on Christian institutions. He talks about how God is the provider, yet institutions are still called to be good stewards. He makes an interesting point about chapels and how they should not be comfortable and nostalgic but should, in some manner, acknowledge the brokenness of the world. Smith states that working under authority and with people has spiritual value, in that it trains people for Christian discipleship. And, because Smith is clear that institutions are generally not places of unconditional love, he gives readers tips about the proper attitude to have in responding to that: how they can avoid bitterness and respond appropriately to praise.
A lot of the book seemed to be common sense, but there are readers who may benefit from Smith’s articulation of the issues: they may wonder what exactly they should be considering, and Smith tells them. Smith focuses a great deal on the type of attitude that leaders of institutions should have, but he occasionally provides practical advice about what they should actually do. The book would have been better had it had more practical advice. Moreover, the book was rather dry, and stories would have enhanced the book by making it more relatable and entertaining, while illustrating the principles that Smith was discussing.
The book would have also been better had it had a more pastoral tone. The section on whom to hire makes sense, but it can make a person feel as if he or she needs to be perfect to work for an institution (not that Smith says that). Of course, workers in general are expected to perform at a quality level, but Smith perhaps should have offered advice to potential workers about how they can prepare themselves for that.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Institutional Intelligence is about how to run an institution. Such institutions include non-profits and churches, but author Gordon T. Smith focuses largely on Christian academia, since that is where he is especially experienced. Smith discusses the importance of having a clear mission for the institution, listening to one’s board, taking into consideration the interests of the stakeholders, and having a budget that is not only balanced but also accomplishes something. He offers advice on the type of people to hire, how to raise money, things to consider when merging with another institution, and how to design the building such that it conveys a welcoming and spiritually-appropriate message.
At times, Smith comments on Christian spirituality, since his focus is on Christian institutions. He talks about how God is the provider, yet institutions are still called to be good stewards. He makes an interesting point about chapels and how they should not be comfortable and nostalgic but should, in some manner, acknowledge the brokenness of the world. Smith states that working under authority and with people has spiritual value, in that it trains people for Christian discipleship. And, because Smith is clear that institutions are generally not places of unconditional love, he gives readers tips about the proper attitude to have in responding to that: how they can avoid bitterness and respond appropriately to praise.
A lot of the book seemed to be common sense, but there are readers who may benefit from Smith’s articulation of the issues: they may wonder what exactly they should be considering, and Smith tells them. Smith focuses a great deal on the type of attitude that leaders of institutions should have, but he occasionally provides practical advice about what they should actually do. The book would have been better had it had more practical advice. Moreover, the book was rather dry, and stories would have enhanced the book by making it more relatable and entertaining, while illustrating the principles that Smith was discussing.
The book would have also been better had it had a more pastoral tone. The section on whom to hire makes sense, but it can make a person feel as if he or she needs to be perfect to work for an institution (not that Smith says that). Of course, workers in general are expected to perform at a quality level, but Smith perhaps should have offered advice to potential workers about how they can prepare themselves for that.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Monday, September 18, 2017
Church Write-Up: The Law and Eternal Life
For church last Sunday, I watched some church services at home. The
reason I did not go out was that the air quality was poor, due (I
presume) to the recent forest fires in Washington and Oregon.
A. The first service that I watched was that of John MacArthur, Jr. He spoke about the purpose of the law of God. According to MacArthur, the Judaizers against whom Paul wrote in Galatians claimed that justification (i.e., being right with God) was by faith in Abraham’s time, but that it was by obedience to the law after God gave the law at Sinai. Why else, they asked, would God have given the law? MacArthur contended that God gave the law for a variety of reasons. One reason was to separate Israel from the pagan nations, so that them Israelites would not socialize with them intimately. That was designed to protect them from paganism. Another reason was to show the Israelites that they fell short of obedience to God’s moral standards and thus needed a Savior. The sacrifices atoned for their sin, demonstrating that they were sinners. And the law contained God’s moral character, of which the Israelites fell short. The law, for Paul, led to destruction and wrath, since the Israelites did not and could not observe it. Through Christ, however, the life that was promised in the Abrahamic covenant comes to believing Israelites and Gentiles. MacArthur talked about the errors of legalism and antinomianism. For MacArthur, people are still obligated to obey the requirements of the law that reflect God’s moral character, and the New Testament commands. God, after all, is holy, and MacArthur said that he doubted that he would want to worship a God who was not just and holy. MacArthur also said that, when it comes to grace teachers (i.e., teachers who say that obedience to the moral law is unnecessary, since salvation is by grace through faith), he expects them to suffer a moral failure, and they often do. Another point that MacArthur made was that it is acceptable for obedience to God’s moral law to flow from a sense of duty, even when there is not a deep spiritual feeling. Paul, after all, said that he beats his body and makes it his slave (I Corinthians 9:27).
MacArthur observed that God’s covenant with Abraham did not talk much about sin or morality. MacArthur speculated that, prior to the giving of the law, there was some unclarity about God’s moral will. That was why there was polygamy then, MacArthur stated. That reasoning, by itself, is problematic, for the law itself appeared to permit polygamy, as Deuteronomy 21:15 demonstrates (yet Deuteronomy 17:17 prohibits the king to multiply wives). At the same time, the law does prohibit certain acts that the patriarchs practiced: Abraham married his half-sister (Genesis 20:11-12), which Deuteronomy 27:22 forbids. MacArthur may have a point, even if the example that he cited was not very good. MacArthur may also have had in mind Paul’s enigmatic statement in Romans 5:13-14, even though MacArthur did not cite it or quote it in that particular sermon: Paul there says that sin was in the world prior to the law, yet it was not imputed, and nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses. Before the law, were people let off the hook by God, since God did not yet make God’s will known through the law? The thing is, God punished people for sin prior to the law: God punished people with a flood on account of their violence, and God destroyed the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. (UPDATE: Actually, my paraphrase of Romans 5:13-14 is laced with my interpretation. Paul actually says that sin is not imputed where there is no law. There is a scholarly argument that Paul's point there is that there was a moral law prior to the Mosaic law.)
There are other questions that I have about what MacArthur said about the law. If God gave Israel rules to separate her from pagans in a sea of paganism, why did God not do the same for the Christians, who were also in a sea of paganism? Was it because God wanted to give Israel a chance to develop in a righteous direction, setting the foundation for Christianity to come? Once the foundation had been set, Christians could come on the scene and did not need the Torah’s rituals to keep them separate from paganism. At the same time, there was some desire on Paul’s part to keep believers separate from non-believers, on some level, for Paul in II Corinthians 6:14 criticizes being unequally yoked; still, Paul in I Corinthians 7:12-14 exhorts believing wives to remain married to non-believing husbands. I also question whether the Hebrew Bible itself regarded the Torah as a path to destruction, assuming that no one could keep it. There were righteous people in the Hebrew Bible, such as Josiah, who was said not to turn to the right or the left (II Kings 22:2). Yet, there were gracious provisions even in the Old Testament: God accepted Israel’s repentance and preserved Israel on account of God’s covenant with Abraham. Could Paul have meant that the law, apart from these gracious provisions, would lead to destruction? Or is that a stretch?
B. The second sermon was preaching on Matthew 7:13-23. In that biblical passage, Jesus exhorts people to travel the narrow way that leads to life, which few travel, rather than the broader, more popular way, which leads to destruction. Jesus also warns his disciples of false prophets, and Jesus states that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” to Jesus will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do God’s will. Doing miracles will not grant a person entrance into the Kingdom. The topic of the sermon was avoiding “judgment shock,” which means expecting to inherit eternal life at the last judgment and instead finding that one is going to hell. How does one avoid this? The pastor said that being in church and simply believing facts about God is not enough, for the demons believe in God yet are not saved (James 2:19). Doing good works is not enough, either. According to the pastor, one inherits eternal life by trusting Christ for salvation, as one’s Savior and Lord. But were not the people in Matthew 7:21-22 believing in Christ, since they called him “Lord, Lord”? The pastor said that they were saying that because they were at the last judgment and they would say anything to get out of going to hell. Yet, the pastor also seemed to suggest that they thought that they were believers before then, during their lifetime. But they did not have a deep relationship with Christ, which was why Christ said that he never knew them; Jesus also calls them workers of iniquity in v 23. The pastor also said that he could spend time with a person and figure out what that person’s passions are, implying, perhaps, that true Christians have a passion for Christ. This is not my favorite kind of message, but I like when the pastor shares aspects of his own testimony. He said that, in his youth, he wanted to be a band leader, and he is glad that God delivered him from that, since where would he be had he gotten that wish? He also expressed gratitude for the preachers of his youth who talked about hell and the need to be born again, and that he has more joy as a follower of Christ than he ever had following the world.
Matthew 7:21-22 has long disturbed me. But I was thinking on Sunday afternoon: it is in the spirit of the prophets of the Hebrew Bible, who said that worship of God was not enough to please God, if people turned around and oppressed and harmed their neighbor. Why worship God, if one does not want to stand for what God stands for? Jesus appears to be making the same sort of point. Was Jesus saying that salvation was by good works, then? Not exactly: in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus shed his blood to ransom people and remit their sins (Matthew 20:28; 26:28), so it portrays the death of Jesus as essential for salvation; people, presumably, cannot simply clean themselves up by doing good works, for Jesus needed to die for them to be forgiven, even in the Gospel of Matthew.
I’ll stop here.
A. The first service that I watched was that of John MacArthur, Jr. He spoke about the purpose of the law of God. According to MacArthur, the Judaizers against whom Paul wrote in Galatians claimed that justification (i.e., being right with God) was by faith in Abraham’s time, but that it was by obedience to the law after God gave the law at Sinai. Why else, they asked, would God have given the law? MacArthur contended that God gave the law for a variety of reasons. One reason was to separate Israel from the pagan nations, so that them Israelites would not socialize with them intimately. That was designed to protect them from paganism. Another reason was to show the Israelites that they fell short of obedience to God’s moral standards and thus needed a Savior. The sacrifices atoned for their sin, demonstrating that they were sinners. And the law contained God’s moral character, of which the Israelites fell short. The law, for Paul, led to destruction and wrath, since the Israelites did not and could not observe it. Through Christ, however, the life that was promised in the Abrahamic covenant comes to believing Israelites and Gentiles. MacArthur talked about the errors of legalism and antinomianism. For MacArthur, people are still obligated to obey the requirements of the law that reflect God’s moral character, and the New Testament commands. God, after all, is holy, and MacArthur said that he doubted that he would want to worship a God who was not just and holy. MacArthur also said that, when it comes to grace teachers (i.e., teachers who say that obedience to the moral law is unnecessary, since salvation is by grace through faith), he expects them to suffer a moral failure, and they often do. Another point that MacArthur made was that it is acceptable for obedience to God’s moral law to flow from a sense of duty, even when there is not a deep spiritual feeling. Paul, after all, said that he beats his body and makes it his slave (I Corinthians 9:27).
MacArthur observed that God’s covenant with Abraham did not talk much about sin or morality. MacArthur speculated that, prior to the giving of the law, there was some unclarity about God’s moral will. That was why there was polygamy then, MacArthur stated. That reasoning, by itself, is problematic, for the law itself appeared to permit polygamy, as Deuteronomy 21:15 demonstrates (yet Deuteronomy 17:17 prohibits the king to multiply wives). At the same time, the law does prohibit certain acts that the patriarchs practiced: Abraham married his half-sister (Genesis 20:11-12), which Deuteronomy 27:22 forbids. MacArthur may have a point, even if the example that he cited was not very good. MacArthur may also have had in mind Paul’s enigmatic statement in Romans 5:13-14, even though MacArthur did not cite it or quote it in that particular sermon: Paul there says that sin was in the world prior to the law, yet it was not imputed, and nevertheless death reigned from Adam to Moses. Before the law, were people let off the hook by God, since God did not yet make God’s will known through the law? The thing is, God punished people for sin prior to the law: God punished people with a flood on account of their violence, and God destroyed the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. (UPDATE: Actually, my paraphrase of Romans 5:13-14 is laced with my interpretation. Paul actually says that sin is not imputed where there is no law. There is a scholarly argument that Paul's point there is that there was a moral law prior to the Mosaic law.)
There are other questions that I have about what MacArthur said about the law. If God gave Israel rules to separate her from pagans in a sea of paganism, why did God not do the same for the Christians, who were also in a sea of paganism? Was it because God wanted to give Israel a chance to develop in a righteous direction, setting the foundation for Christianity to come? Once the foundation had been set, Christians could come on the scene and did not need the Torah’s rituals to keep them separate from paganism. At the same time, there was some desire on Paul’s part to keep believers separate from non-believers, on some level, for Paul in II Corinthians 6:14 criticizes being unequally yoked; still, Paul in I Corinthians 7:12-14 exhorts believing wives to remain married to non-believing husbands. I also question whether the Hebrew Bible itself regarded the Torah as a path to destruction, assuming that no one could keep it. There were righteous people in the Hebrew Bible, such as Josiah, who was said not to turn to the right or the left (II Kings 22:2). Yet, there were gracious provisions even in the Old Testament: God accepted Israel’s repentance and preserved Israel on account of God’s covenant with Abraham. Could Paul have meant that the law, apart from these gracious provisions, would lead to destruction? Or is that a stretch?
B. The second sermon was preaching on Matthew 7:13-23. In that biblical passage, Jesus exhorts people to travel the narrow way that leads to life, which few travel, rather than the broader, more popular way, which leads to destruction. Jesus also warns his disciples of false prophets, and Jesus states that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” to Jesus will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do God’s will. Doing miracles will not grant a person entrance into the Kingdom. The topic of the sermon was avoiding “judgment shock,” which means expecting to inherit eternal life at the last judgment and instead finding that one is going to hell. How does one avoid this? The pastor said that being in church and simply believing facts about God is not enough, for the demons believe in God yet are not saved (James 2:19). Doing good works is not enough, either. According to the pastor, one inherits eternal life by trusting Christ for salvation, as one’s Savior and Lord. But were not the people in Matthew 7:21-22 believing in Christ, since they called him “Lord, Lord”? The pastor said that they were saying that because they were at the last judgment and they would say anything to get out of going to hell. Yet, the pastor also seemed to suggest that they thought that they were believers before then, during their lifetime. But they did not have a deep relationship with Christ, which was why Christ said that he never knew them; Jesus also calls them workers of iniquity in v 23. The pastor also said that he could spend time with a person and figure out what that person’s passions are, implying, perhaps, that true Christians have a passion for Christ. This is not my favorite kind of message, but I like when the pastor shares aspects of his own testimony. He said that, in his youth, he wanted to be a band leader, and he is glad that God delivered him from that, since where would he be had he gotten that wish? He also expressed gratitude for the preachers of his youth who talked about hell and the need to be born again, and that he has more joy as a follower of Christ than he ever had following the world.
Matthew 7:21-22 has long disturbed me. But I was thinking on Sunday afternoon: it is in the spirit of the prophets of the Hebrew Bible, who said that worship of God was not enough to please God, if people turned around and oppressed and harmed their neighbor. Why worship God, if one does not want to stand for what God stands for? Jesus appears to be making the same sort of point. Was Jesus saying that salvation was by good works, then? Not exactly: in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus shed his blood to ransom people and remit their sins (Matthew 20:28; 26:28), so it portrays the death of Jesus as essential for salvation; people, presumably, cannot simply clean themselves up by doing good works, for Jesus needed to die for them to be forgiven, even in the Gospel of Matthew.
I’ll stop here.
Friday, September 15, 2017
Book Write-Up: Between One Faith and Another
Peter Kreeft. Between One Faith and Another: Engaging Conversations on the World’s Great Religions. IVP Books, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
Peter Kreeft teaches philosophy at Boston College and is the author of over fifty books. Because Kreeft has written about Christian apologetics and uses rigorous logic in his presentations that I have heard, I was expecting this book to be a critique of non-Christian religions and an argument that Christianity is superior. I was wrong, and pleasantly surprised.
The book is a fictional dialogue among three people, all of whom participate in a religion class. First, there is Thomas Keptic, a student. Thomas is an exclusivist. What that often means in this book is that Thomas believes that the truth claims of the religions are mutually irreconcilable: they cannot all be true. Thomas is not a conservative Christian claiming that Christianity is true, however, but rather is a skeptic (get it, Thomas Ceptic) and an agnostic about religious truth claims. He relies heavily on logic, particularly the law of non-contradiction.
Second, there is Bea Lever, another student. She is an inclusivist, which means that she maintains that the different religions share commonalities in their practices and even, on some level, in their truth claims, and thus they are accessing a common reality. She considers herself a Christian (her name is Bea Lever, as in “believer”), and Thomas often nitpicks her about how she can be a Christian while rejecting the exclusivism (in this case, the claim that one religion is true while others are false) that is promoted in the Bible. Whereas Thomas relies on logic, Bea values intuition.
Third, there is Professor Fesser, who teaches the religion class. He is somewhat of a mediator in the discussions between Thomas and Bea. He points out the strengths and weaknesses of both sides, and he often encourages both to consider the aspects of the religions themselves, rather than continually falling back on the exclusivism-inclusivism debate. He is called a pluralist.
The book explores the question of the definition of religion and the religious sense, and it also discusses specific religions: Hinduism, Buddhism, Zen, Confucianism, Taoism, Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. The final chapter is about the question of whether contradictory religions can simultaneously be true. This question recurs throughout the book, but it is the focus of the final chapter.
All three perspectives get their licks in. That does not mean that the book is a long, acrimonious debate (though it occasionally does become heated), but rather that each side boldly defends its beliefs. Conservative Christianity does not mercilessly mow down the other sides, in short. Near the end, I thought that the book would go in that direction, when Professor Fesser encouraged Thomas to seriously consider Pascal’s Wager and the Lord-Liar-Lunatic argument in light of his (Thomas’) logical “either-or” perspective. But Professor Fesser does not dwell on that, and the book ends on an inconclusive note, as if the journey, not the destination, is what is important. In addition, while each side holds its beliefs, they also modify them, on some level: Thomas eventually sees some value in inclusivism, and Bea admits that she is not an absolute inclusivist but draws the line somewhere.
The book does not just dwell on the exclusivism-inclusivism debate, but it also delves into the peculiarities of different religions, and the diversity within them. For example, an intriguing part of the book is when Professor Fesser explains that the co-existence of contradictions, in which prominent aspects of Hinduism believe, makes sense in light of Hindu principles about theology and cosmology.
Although the debate itself does not go in an explicitly conservative Christian direction, Kreeft, in a thoughtful introduction, explains how the three approaches fit into his own understanding of Christianity. Kreeft is an exclusivist in that he believes that Christ is God incarnate, yet he also holds that the Logos/light enlightens everyone who comes into the world (a la John 1:9, though the meaning of that verse has been debated), meaning that non-Christian religions have at least some access to truth. Kreeft also shares where he identifies with the three schools of thought that he addresses, and where he has reservations.
The book is worth reading, particularly on account of its rounded exploration of issues.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
Peter Kreeft teaches philosophy at Boston College and is the author of over fifty books. Because Kreeft has written about Christian apologetics and uses rigorous logic in his presentations that I have heard, I was expecting this book to be a critique of non-Christian religions and an argument that Christianity is superior. I was wrong, and pleasantly surprised.
The book is a fictional dialogue among three people, all of whom participate in a religion class. First, there is Thomas Keptic, a student. Thomas is an exclusivist. What that often means in this book is that Thomas believes that the truth claims of the religions are mutually irreconcilable: they cannot all be true. Thomas is not a conservative Christian claiming that Christianity is true, however, but rather is a skeptic (get it, Thomas Ceptic) and an agnostic about religious truth claims. He relies heavily on logic, particularly the law of non-contradiction.
Second, there is Bea Lever, another student. She is an inclusivist, which means that she maintains that the different religions share commonalities in their practices and even, on some level, in their truth claims, and thus they are accessing a common reality. She considers herself a Christian (her name is Bea Lever, as in “believer”), and Thomas often nitpicks her about how she can be a Christian while rejecting the exclusivism (in this case, the claim that one religion is true while others are false) that is promoted in the Bible. Whereas Thomas relies on logic, Bea values intuition.
Third, there is Professor Fesser, who teaches the religion class. He is somewhat of a mediator in the discussions between Thomas and Bea. He points out the strengths and weaknesses of both sides, and he often encourages both to consider the aspects of the religions themselves, rather than continually falling back on the exclusivism-inclusivism debate. He is called a pluralist.
The book explores the question of the definition of religion and the religious sense, and it also discusses specific religions: Hinduism, Buddhism, Zen, Confucianism, Taoism, Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. The final chapter is about the question of whether contradictory religions can simultaneously be true. This question recurs throughout the book, but it is the focus of the final chapter.
All three perspectives get their licks in. That does not mean that the book is a long, acrimonious debate (though it occasionally does become heated), but rather that each side boldly defends its beliefs. Conservative Christianity does not mercilessly mow down the other sides, in short. Near the end, I thought that the book would go in that direction, when Professor Fesser encouraged Thomas to seriously consider Pascal’s Wager and the Lord-Liar-Lunatic argument in light of his (Thomas’) logical “either-or” perspective. But Professor Fesser does not dwell on that, and the book ends on an inconclusive note, as if the journey, not the destination, is what is important. In addition, while each side holds its beliefs, they also modify them, on some level: Thomas eventually sees some value in inclusivism, and Bea admits that she is not an absolute inclusivist but draws the line somewhere.
The book does not just dwell on the exclusivism-inclusivism debate, but it also delves into the peculiarities of different religions, and the diversity within them. For example, an intriguing part of the book is when Professor Fesser explains that the co-existence of contradictions, in which prominent aspects of Hinduism believe, makes sense in light of Hindu principles about theology and cosmology.
Although the debate itself does not go in an explicitly conservative Christian direction, Kreeft, in a thoughtful introduction, explains how the three approaches fit into his own understanding of Christianity. Kreeft is an exclusivist in that he believes that Christ is God incarnate, yet he also holds that the Logos/light enlightens everyone who comes into the world (a la John 1:9, though the meaning of that verse has been debated), meaning that non-Christian religions have at least some access to truth. Kreeft also shares where he identifies with the three schools of thought that he addresses, and where he has reservations.
The book is worth reading, particularly on account of its rounded exploration of issues.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
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